by Marc Mulero
“This isn’t about where I’m going… because you’re already there,” Eres knew. “This is about how I got there.”
Seren spoke to himself, “The Dawn handles fear even at the brink of death. It makes me despise your missteps more, Agden, old friend. Your kin would have been perfect for the job.”
“So,” Eres continued, “I’ve been known to read many, many books. Mostly I was stuck with philosophers who danced around espers and Gushda in abstract ways because those were the only tomes available in the Osa Sphere. But nonetheless, I was able to start forming my own opinions, and when I got to the consortium in the UnderSpire, well, that’s when everything started to click.”
“Go on,” Seren seemed interested.
“You see, every book I read, every memory I’ve latched onto, I’ve kind of compiled what the overall purpose of each esper is. I know, I know, I only have one esper and you have many, whoever you are. And I also know that each esper has traits. For example, I can meld with others’ essences here in Gushda, but I’m not that far along in that respect, and never will be I guess.” He sounded a bit glum at admitting that last part. “But I think I figured out the point of each.
“The Ostara,” Eres was soaring through the cosmos of Gushda, on a lit predefined path that he’d traveled before, “it is given to those who need the light. Which means it must be a very uplifting aspect of the Eternal, the highest force of ‘good’ contained within it. Or maybe not contained within, but rather the wielder has access to it.”
“Very good,” Seren agreed.
“Dumos would be its counterpart. Darkness. The worst aspects of the Eternal unveiled to whoever wields this one. Those two rings would represent the central conflict, I think. And it appears based on all of my reading that only certain individuals can truly manage them.
“Then there’s the Amrite, the esper that I wield. I know it’s been split quite a few times, and that my fata was the cause for most of these separations, but the point of Amrite is to manage addiction. I would imagine the effects to be exactly what a wandering bodiless soul would feel out here in Gushda. Complete attachment to the Eternal. And I’m assuming that after a body decays in Rudo, after it is no more, then if such a consciousness exists in the afterlife, the effects of the Amrite is what it would feel. I’m on my way soon, so I’ll let you know, heh.”
“Wukaldred was right about you,” Seren commended. “If only you had more time, I could have taught you much.”
“The Selka,” Eres went on, “this one I know least about, but from what I gather, this esper was also split a few times, and it is supposed to be the one that connects the others if ever the need arose. One would call it the glue. I suppose if you, the collector, inherited the Selka last, then you would not feel the effects of the others until this one was in your possession. You would probably only be limited to your initial esper’s traits. But that’s speculation on my part, as is everything else I suppose.
“Now on to the most important from what I can gather - the Elkar. It wasn’t until I met Ressa Noe Donnus in the cave of the Northern Grottos that I realized something was amiss, confirmed again by the Founder’s memories later on. This esper, it seems, is the only one that is actually connected to the Secret. The Elkar gives the wielder an ability to see beyond. Ressa spoke to seeing people in strange clothes, alternate identities when looking at one person. It tells a story, I think, that our souls have not only inhabited one body in Rudo. I think the secret is that this, whatever this is, wasn’t our first life in the physical realm.”
“A hypothesis shared, Dawn,” Seren said aloud.
“What’s strange to me is the law of memory. Why, if that were true, would our memories from our previous life be blocked? Questions for you to find out, I suppose, if I’m right about all this, any of it.
“Anyway, the point of my final post is not only to share my thoughts on what you’re about to uncover, but what I think you should do afterward. Hear me, please, collector. Search yourself. Know that if the Secret truly is the most terrible thing that ulmanity will ever know, then don’t repeat the history of our forerunners. The Skrols were never meant to be separate. If you must break up the espers once more, do it in harmony with others. Form an Alliance. A true one, where you can fight together. This way you won’t allow for special forces to hunt you down one by one, but rather you can strategize as a collective. Be smart!
“And if the Secret somehow turns out to be a positive occurrence, simply use it for good. Maintain peace. Share your knowledge with the public in rejoicing harmony. In grace.”
Seren could only stare back at the young Dawn as he made his final proclamation, into those fearless amber eyes, waiting for them to falter. But they didn’t. In the end Eres was a Skrol, one that had earned the respect of Seren Night.
He then backed out of the memory, which clung to hang on like sap before he was finally able to free himself of it. His expression was still unmoved, a poker-face through and through even when no one was looking, but it was clear that he was considering all of what the young Dawn had just shared. Seren had contemplated this possibility, in truth, that the Secret contained some kind of extended life through Rudo. However, to have another mind reach the same conclusion meant a great deal, especially when most of the Skrol world refused to even consider the components of the secret. Taboo this, forbidden that, it made Seren sick, and in the end, it made him solemn that he wasn’t able to stop Lasarius’ attack from ending Eres.
“This Dawn should have lived.” Seren’s gaze lingered on the final memory as he floated past it. He moved onward, down to the next aligned star. This thing in front of him, whatever it was, looked like a twinkling star that was lightyears away, only it was right in front of him and never expanded into a giant ball of heat like one of the suns. Instead, it just remained as a flicker, even up close.
“What are you?” Seren scrutinized it, and then froze up when a voice shot back.
“Use me as a lantern as you submerge yourself deeper, oh discoverer of the Secret. I can be of use.”
Seren recognized that voice, and as far as he knew there was only one being that could conjure such an occurrence in Gushda: The Founder himself.
“Think of me as a tour guide. Yes, that’s it. Since you’ve already made the grave choice of indulging this path, let me at least narrate what I’ve collected living a lifetime within it.”
Seren eyed it, considering whether or not it would be wise to try and grab hold of it. There was an iridescent string floating over it, after all. Should he go in blind? Form his own opinions of whatever he was about to see? Perhaps. Or perhaps he could avoid aging fifty years in an instant if this echo of the Founder was so kind.
Every choice from here on had to be strictly measured, since the deaths of so many Skrols and esper wielders rested on Seren doing the right thing.
“Fine,” he swiped it, “but I’m dropping you if I find you a bother.”
“Fair, fair.”
“How did you manifest such a thing?” Seren looked at the lantern curiously as he continued downward to the translucent depths.
“Many years of studying enchantments, dear descendant. You see, enchantments are unlike Reach and Sorcery in that they don’t call upon the elements in the now to do thy bidding. They are more patient collections, yes, that generally respond to triggers. In time, they can be weaved quite intricately, like this one. I’ve bottled my essence.
“I am proud of this guide.”
Seren fought to roll his eyes. He had studied Reach, Sorcery, and Mysticism just as much as any of the great wielders, but only in defense. He could never identify with such pride since he, like Eres, didn’t have a magical bone in his body.
“Now, now. Hold me up so I can see. Yes, this way. Keep going.”
“You may already be hitting my limits.”
“Hm… you prefer less volume? How’s this?”
“How about a better economy of words?”
“Ah, less talking I see
. I will see what is within my limits.”
“Mm.”
Seren floated down toward the last iridescent shard at the bottom of this ‘ocean.’ Oddly enough, it was clasped within ethereal blackened tendrils as though some inky squid was wrapped around it. Seren wondered whether that was Dumos latching on somehow.
“Before you enter, heed a warning. My tour will be short by our normal standards, but there’s a catch… you will age months in there by the end of it. Time is exponentially sped up, you see. However, you will only feel it when you exit. Understand, discoverer?”
“Yes.”
“It is easy to exit in technical terms. Just think intensely of any experience in Rudo. It will drop you like a stone out of the realm. Look at that, I just saved years of your life! Can you comprehend my value yet?
“Brevity, lantern, I warn you.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Ungrateful discoverer.” The lantern muttered those last words.
“Anything else I should know? Essentials only, please.”
“Ah, now you want me to speak?”
This must be a younger version of the Founder, Seren thought, he’s quite annoying.
“Well, I’d say the last item I can prepare you for is yourself.”
“We’ve moved on to riddles now?”
“Oh. I thought of this more as… how did you put it? A better economy of words.”
Without saying another word, Seren wound up the lantern and readied to toss it into the abyss.
“Alright! Alright!” It pleaded to stay. “It’s just hard to explain, you see. In there, in that shard, you will recognize yourself not by vision but by essence, and it will be strange, discoverer. Think of it like a dream. I’m sure in that state you’ve experienced ‘knowing’ someone, yet their appearance is completely amiss. Well, that’s kind of like what this will be. So now that you know, you won’t be so dumbfounded.”
“Alright.”
“I think it’s better just to experience at this point, you know, before you toss me to the winds of Gushda.”
Seren agreed by floating closer to the shard, watching as tendrils tried to yank at it. And then, with his free hand, he reached for it. The energy radiating made it feel like two opposite magnets trying to touch. Such a powerful force. So much activity.
When his hand finally grasped it, he heard a familiar sound, same as in Rudo when he collected the last esper. A deep, deep horn blaring through his ears, vibrating his ethereal body, transporting him somewhere far away.
Sloop.
The next time Seren opened his eyes, he was no longer in Gushda.
“What is this plac-” he was cut off by an army of what he thought to be uemons marching with unusual tech over their eyes. Everyone wielded ancient weapons – guns. Clothes were different, the air smelled funny, polluted, like a smoky fog was being inhaled. He spun to face the other way and saw another group brandishing their own weapons. Each side holding up flags he’d never seen before.
“One of our old wars? I’ve never…”
“You’ve never read about this one, no, and for good reason, discoverer. This war did not happen on our spheres.”
The lantern seemed to be navigating for him, becoming the ‘tour guide’ it promised to be. With the impression of wind at his back, Seren was zoomed out from his location against his will to the point where they were flying, airborne, now with hordes of people in his vision as far as the eye could see. Further out they flew, to the point where their perspective was planetary. The lantern was right: this was not Ingora.
“Earth, this was once called.”
Puffs of orange could be seen all around the planet - terribly large explosions, seen even from space.
“This war was the World Ender.”
“What caused it? Or better yet, what is its significance to us? This could be millions of spheres away from ours.”
“You are not surprised that there was life elsewhere?”
“Ask me questions later, lantern. You say my clock is ticking faster in here so just provide answers now.
“Very well.”
Seren’s vision changed as though colored lenses were dropped over his eyes. He could see spirits floating around the sphere. Then insanely fast winds disrupted his sight, and poof, he was on Earth’s grounds once more. Only now, the fields were quiet. A different time, perhaps? The landscape then changed abruptly once more. No longer fields, but sand. Desert. In the distance he could see buildings. Abnormal ones. Structures that looked nothing like the Eplon spires or the Swul barracks. They were triangular in shape and appeared barren.
Seren’s eyes suddenly bulged under his hat. He heard a voice and was compelled to turn. There strolled a tall lanky man speaking intently to a woman, both buried in an unfurled map. And when they dropped the parchment to look straight ahead, Seren gasped.
“That’s… me.”
“It is, yes. You were a collector in your past life too, it seems.”
Seren was silent.
“Now would be the time to start asking those questions again.”
“I’ve been alive before?”
“Yes. This is your first physical form. Ingora would be your second.”
“My second life… why?”
“Why not? Your consciousness is intelligent and exists in the Eternal, discoverer. Say it with me: E-tern-al. Your spirit lives on forever. And in other spheres, in few cases, there are conduits, much like the theory of Sindah. They can bridge the Eternal with the physical.”
“Incredible.”
“I know! I thought the same. That’s how I got lost in here and, well, you know my fate.”
Seren looked at his lantern. “How could you…?”
“Know my own fate? I am an encapsulated essence! Not a living soul. I see what you see and I can judge what happened to the actual me. Remember, I’m just an enchantment. I exist independent of my maker in a much more limited capacity. But anyway, here it is: the dreaded Secret that I went through all the trouble of concealing.”
“The World Ender. So, the suggestion is that when we take physical form, we are destructive?”
“Not everyone, but those who seek power, well, when they obtain it, they usually become corrupted in one way or the other. Generally speaking, throughout the span of a species’ lifecycle, there are certain checks and balances that keep power in check. Eventually, at least in this case, if enough power is held by opposing sides, destruction is what follows. Here, it started with control.”
Their view zoomed out again, where slides of world leaders came into view. Dictators, presidents, and monarchs all cycled through.
“Strip enough energized souls of freedom and they will fight for it. Demand too much from a strong mind, and it will rebel. Remember, my form has studied these beings as long as permitted. In and out, in and out. I’ve been within this shard countless times. Well, not me, but who you would call the Founder. Yet it is through his essence that I know why this world ended.”
“Because tribes couldn’t co-exist.”
“Precisely.”
“Structural differences, like the Swuls and the Dagos, is that what produced hate here?”
“Your first forms were even more finicky. Color at some points, eye shape even. You name it, the simpletons found one way or another to group together and point fingers at different walks of life.”
“A familiar story.”
“Yes, but there are bad eggs in every batch of souls, wouldn’t you say?”
“There are. So, it still comes down to being able to learn and, eventually, co-exist. Without that, there is no sphere. There is no world.”
“You are catching on, which is good, because our tour will be ending shortly due to time constraints.”
“Why then would this secret be so wretched to unveil to the masses? We could learn from it.”
“I will let you answer this one for yourself. Although time is short, you should reach your own conclusions, and then I will reveal the Founder’s.”
>
“Well, origins for one would be toppled. All beliefs of the first races – Dagos and uemon-kind - would be thrown into question. The All-Mother may no longer be the god of choice. I see… the reveal could be existential and systemic. Chaos could erupt.”
The lantern was silent, waiting for more.
“Wait. Were there eyes into Gushda in the first life? I see only tech.”
“Yes. Many. They were called psychics, I think. But also, Dumos intervened in a very heavy way, creating pretenders, many of them, shrouding those who actually possessed a legitimate eye.”
“I see. So the darkness does not want souls to have access to Gushda while in physical form.”
“You are on a sure path.”
“Why would the darkness want that?”
“Because where there are souls, there is also Ostara.”
“So then, tech overshadowing Ingora and pushing Sindah to the wayside is an exact repetition of what happened here, on Earth?”
“Yes.”
“All the more reason to show Ingora!”
“That is your choice to make.”
“But the Founder didn’t make that choice.”
“He did not.”
Seren couldn’t fathom why that would be, and on top of it all, the pressure was becoming insurmountable. Every minute he spent soaking up all of this imagery of the first world was what? Days, maybe, even weeks of his actual life? His mind raced as a result. To have time slow down when retreating into Gushda and then sped back up again when diving into this shard… it was too much.
Then again, Seren thought, if that troll got his hands on this information, he would have all of the ammunition in the spheres to unite sorcerers in Verglas and perform his own sort of cleansing. It would be exactly as he dreamt it. But that cannot be the Founder’s reasoning. It must be something else.
“We were not born with memories of our first life,” Seren spoke out loud, more to himself than the lantern. “The law of memory decided this for us, to omit our past life...”
