Chapter Four Hundred And Forty Eight – 448
First and foremost of Felix's duties were holding the core space together. As it had before, his Fiendforge acted as a vice grip around Atar's visualized world, clasping it tight and keeping the pieces of it from splintering further. That wasn't a concern in the beginning stages, as above all else, Atar had to find the core itself.
The two of them hunted through the ash-filled, blasted terrain for at least an hour before Atar located the once-massive altar. It had been utterly buried in ash, and the flame suspended above its tilted bowl was nearly choked out entirely. The flame was a pale yellow-orange, closer to a torch than a bonfire. Seeing it made a number of things more clear, namely the length of Atar's recovery. Without a properly working core space his very Aspects were impacted, reducing regenerations on all fronts. Moreover, Atar revealed that his channels felt clogged as well, packed with more char and ash from the fallout of his confrontation. Clearing said impurities was a challenge that had to be tackled before any sort of reconstruction could be engaged in, and Atar set to it with gusto.
Atar's charcoal skeleton sat itself next to the cracked and tilted core, employing his own visualization technique. Felix watched, fascinated, as the pressure on his Fiendforge shifted subtly. The mage's methods were superficially similar to Vess' own, primarily in that Atar cleared his Mind and sent his Perception outward to make changes. He grabbed at and squashed each bit of debris and detritus that had piled up around them. Unlike Vess, Atar did not form a miniature facsimile of his core space before him, and Felix thought he noticed a significant lack of fine control because of it. Regardless, after another hour of slowly gathered momentum, Atar rendered large swathes of the core space clean and clear, ready for Felix to add in his own efforts.
Using his Skills in other people's core spaces was difficult to a certain degree, but mostly it was that Felix was limited in what permanent changes he could affect. He could create a huge statue of himself and Pit, detail it until it looked as lifelike as possible, but the moment he stopped feeding it Mana the structure would crumble apart. Only Atar had Authority over himself, which was as it should be...but Felix could pave the way.
Stone Shaping is level 82!
Mantle of the Infinite Revolution is level 53!
By utilizing Stone Shaping on Atar's visualized bedrock, he could shift the cracked expanse into a solid whole. He did so, discussing the efforts with Atar as they went. They found his progress went faster when he also applied his Mantle of the Infinite Revolution, heating up the ground so that he could pull and shape the savaged stone with only mild difficulty. The bedrock, once cratered with devastation, was whole once again, marked here and there with small mounds to represent Atar's Skills. Fine as it was, Felix strained to hold and keep it from deteriorating right back into it's old state. That was where Atar came back into play.
Essentially presenting a mock up design, Atar flowed after, utilizing his techniques to copy the template Felix had laid out. It turned out that having a visual representation of what he wanted was extremely useful, allowing his Mind to focus on exactly what was needed rather than worrying at the process. The bedrock turned from a dark granite to a smooth, glassy obsidian as Atar finalized the initial changes.
Fiendforge is level 20!
After that, they began to map out the sigaldry that once dominated Atar's core. Due to having seen most of Atar's previous set up, and because that had been well within the thirty day limit of his Born Trait, Felix could have faithfully replicated the majority of the old design. The question became whether or not they should. Atar was more heavily involved there, guiding Felix through what he desired and following right behind him each step of the way. It took some doing, hours of it, but eventually the obsidian flooring was gilded with elegant, golden inscriptions.
Manasight is level 74!
Invocation is level 66!
Theurgist of the Rise is level 83!
"Atar, these sigils don't make a lot of sense," Felix pointed out. "Your last core space had a lot of complicated bits to it, but the pieces I understood were pretty clear."
"They won't for a while, I don't think. This is a framework at best," he said with a desolate tone that didn't match his angry expression, such as it was. "You're right, my old set up had a great deal more clarity and complexity. Until I've fixed more details here, that much work will be pointless."
"Why?"
Atar clacked his jaws, as if considering his words. "Changes. If they happen, and I don't doubt it, I will need to move fast. I am affording this opportunity only by the nature of my severed bond to the Highest Flame...and by my Title."
"Your Title?" Felix turned so he was fully facing the man. "You didn't mention a Title. From defeating the Urge?"
"From surviving it. Or not surviving it, as it turns out." Atar lifted a skeletal hand and pushed at Felix. A blue screen rotated into his view.
"Reborn?" Felix read on, his eyebrows slowly climbing up his forehead. "'Due to your Link to a Primordial and Nascent [Unknown], the attunement of your core, and your Born Trait (Heart of Fire), you have been remade!' What? The Primordial is me, but what's this Nascent [Unknown] bit?"
"I haven't a clue. Honestly, I had hoped you would be able to explain that."
"Sorry to disappoint." Felix bit at the inside of his cheek, thinking. "So the surge in significance plus being 'reborn' has granted you some, what, flexibility in redesigning your core space?"
"That is my theory, yes. Everyone knows that one must solidify one's core space well before they reach Master Tier, or else be locked into less than ideal patterns of visualization. It can, and has, affected those attempting to advance into Master and beyond." He drew his knobby knees inward, toward the flames in his chest. "I am rushing headlong into Adept. I can feel it gathering around me, Felix. The Skills are in disarray here, but the power they took from the Urge was...it was a lot. Too much, almost."
"I know the feeling," Felix said before sighing and throwing up his hands. "Well, it's just another thing. We'll get it fixed as best we can and keep moving forward. Any other surprises though? The Link I established with Vess threw some curveballs at her and I'd rather face yours head on if we can."
"No. That's it," Atar said. He hugged his knees a bit closer to his chest and laughed. "That's enough, I think."
"Mm." Felix could hear it though. The lie. It tingled in the air between them, an atonal burr along Atar's complicated Spirit. "Alright. Just let me know."
"Of course."
At that point, their attention shifted to the man's core directly. Felix was told to hold back as Atar focused the entirety of his Willpower and Intent. Unlike the spaces around them, cores were not something you wanted another person's influence over, for various vague reasons Atar couldn't be bothered to explain. So Felix watched and maintained the hold of his Fiendforge. After a few aborted attempts, Atar successfully managed to reshape the altar that housed his flickering core flame, turning it from a wide, shallow brazier and bowl to a tall, rough-hewn cage of obsidian. Golden sigaldry crawled up its straight sides, marking out the cylindrical edges of the plinth that lifted the cage to approximately chest height. Within, the yellow-orange flame flickered and danced, as dim as ever.
"Now the tricky part," Atar muttered, and shoved a fist into his own chest. The white flame gathered onto Atar's hand, and when he removed it the majority of it came along for the ride, leaving only the barest glimmers still pumping with the man's skeletal ribs. Atar wheezed, clearly in pain, but did not hesitate to slip his burning hand into the obsidian cage. The moment he did, the yellow-orange flame flared up as if it had just been fed a huge helping of kindling. The white fire, however, was too strong, subsuming the warmer light and replacing it entirely.
"Wow." Felix watched the core flame brighten and expand, swirling with some sort of inner motion. It almost looked like wings for a moment, before the crimson-edged fire spun outward into a hollow ring. Except for being less dense and only one of them, it was basically a color-swapped version of his own core rings. "It worked."
"Haah, you...you doubted?" Atar asked between heavy breaths. His brittle hands held at the bars of his cage, while his much-dimmed eye fires tracked the swirling motion of his new core flame. "I am...the greatest...fire mage in Ahkestria."
"Technically true. We killed most of the others," Felix said with a chuckle. Atar glared at him, which only increased his amusement. "Alright alright. I will say, the idea of a cage is interesting. Can I ask why?"
"I...do not entirely know why," Atar admitted. "We are all shaped by our perceptions and expectations, unconscious or otherwise." There was a harsh burr in his voice, different than before. More raw. "My Intent did this...my pain did this."
"Atar. You've rebuilt your core from the brink. I would call that a win no matter how you slice it, dude." Felix walked around the cage-like core, while the odd flame expanded and shrank, as if flickering in the wind. "Plus it looks pretty cool."
"Cool? Right. You've used that idiom before." Atar's charcoal skeleton gave the obsidian cage a wary look. "I suppose it holds a certain aesthetic."
"There you go!"
"Perhaps if I..." Atar trailed his hands across the crude expanse of glassy stone, his voice turning to a series of nonsensical murmurs as his concentration narrowed significantly. Each pass of his hand did something, changed a bar or plane or join, until the cage was no longer quite as crude. By the time the man stepped back, breathing heavily through his gaping ribs, the cage and plinth upon which it stood had changed. Whereas before the design was rough and almost accidental, as if a cage has sprung up out of nature, now it appeared as if a craftsman had put conscious design into them. Not a great craftsman per se, but there was a burgeoning artistry that even Felix could appreciate.
Atar stumbled, but Felix was there, supporting his friend. "Huh. Nice job. That had to take a good amount of mental energy. How much juice do you have left?"
"I think...I think I can handle one last detail."
"Skills?" Felix asked.
"Skills."
All the places where they had marked out the sigaldry, where Felix had built up tiny mounds in a spiralling path around the core, they lit up. Every single one of them. Then, from the mounds burst thickened slabs of obsidian, rough and unpolished and absolutely covered in golden scriptwork. Felix's Fiendforge quaked, for once struggling to hold tight as Atar's core space wriggled and flexed with abandon. He bore down, pressing the splitting sides of it closer and closer, until the very air shook all around them. The monoliths kept rising, a veritable Stonehenge emerging from the polished black and gleaming gold. They rose like thunder, a rampaging herd of elephants until they rumbled to a sudden, lurching stop.
Fiendforge is level 21!
Atar fell to his knees, and his legs shattered on impact. Dust and charred splinters scattered all around them.
"Whoa!" Projection or not, Felix grabbed holds of his friend's Body and pulled him back up, not even caring that the white flame might burn him. It did, scorching his projected flesh like chicken under a blowtorch, but Felix ignored the pain. "You okay?"
For his part, Atar maintained he'd be fine, given some more rest. So the two of them took some time, sitting within Atar's core space and recovering their spent faculties. By the time Atar had recovered, he'd rebuilt himself new legs, these a healthy off-white color in contrast to the burnt matchsticks that was the rest of his projected Body. Apparently it was easier to visualized a new projected Body when one's core space was actually functioning as intended.
"I can walk, at least. That is enough to keep refining what we've started." Atar's blackened skull fixed Felix with an expressionless stare, but the man's Spirit vibrated with a sense of gratitude, relief, and no little embarrassment. "Felix. I"
"Don't mention it. We're friends. A team." Felix grinned. "It's what we do."
Atar looked at his own feet as a cocktail of confusing emotions boiled up within him. It was too much to parse at a glance, and Felix didn't care to try. Like the lie earlier, he trusted Atar enough not to pry. He started walking away, dusting off his pants from the lingering specks of ash. "C'mon. Next check up is Evie."
"What? Come with you?" Atar chuckled. "That shouldn't be possible. I've no Skill at delving people's cores, same as Alister."
"Ah, but much as I like him, we all have something Alister lacks."
"What" Atar's eyes of flame expanded in realization. "The Links."
"Got it in one. Let's go pay our favorite chain-fighter a visit."
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