Previously on The Beginning After The End...
Arthur and Sylvie faced the overwhelming pull of the aetheric river, with Sylvie striving to understand its depths while shielding Arthur from its chaotic influence. As they battled against an attacking creature, their bond became evident, intertwined like roots in the river of time. Meanwhile, Claire and Regis engaged in discussing the strange realms they navigated, encountering mysterious projections and unsettling reflections along the way. With visions of a devastating future looming, Sylvie grappled with her memories while striving to maintain control over the aether, as time became a central threat to their very existence.
I withdrew, pulling my consciousness back from the boundary of the Relictombs.
Flickering light and energy pulsed through my systems, maintaining this mental projection. In place of the gray matter that once housed my personality and memories, crystal now served as the vessel for my thoughts. I pondered why those of us who stayed behind had made such a choice. The entirety of the djinn race had sacrificed everything to construct the Relictombs, but my peers and I had surrendered our very existence to ensure the survival of this eternal undertaking.
This reflection wasn't born of bitterness. I wasn't second-guessing the path I had taken.
Nonetheless, I provided my own answer.
We stayed to safeguard our legacy and protect our lore. We remained to discover those capable of utilizing this power in ways we could not, even if it meant our own salvation was forfeit.
My purpose for existing was singular: to prevent the collective wisdom of our people from vanishing alongside us. If even one person could take the insights from our vast encyclopedia and carry that flame of hope to other realms or different eras—spreading the mastery of aether beyond this world—then my objective would be fulfilled.
Or would it merely "resemble" fulfillment?
I paused, caught on that specific word. For a time, I drifted in the void, analyzing the choice of "resemble" over "represent." Such a linguistic slip might signal a breakdown in the complex magical circuits sustaining my mind, but it was more likely the result of conflicting data from the countless parallel processes running within my neural matrix. I scrutinized these internal contradictions with precision.
Meanwhile, Arthur Leywin and his allies prepared to execute their strategy. My awareness of them was currently faint; I required solitude from Tessia Eralith’s interruptions to finish my calculations. It was unsettling how she could detect my presence whenever I manifested at the Relictombs' edge to observe them. However, since she had first encountered me while acting as the Legacy, her heightened sensitivity was logical.
Their plan relied on Varay Aurae’s ability to suppress the relentless pressure of mana. This would grant Arthur Leywin the window he needed to tap into the aetheric river and warp space, punching an exit from the Relictombs back into the physical world. Considering the human woman’s recent Integration and the overwhelming pull of the river—which restricted Arthur’s influence—my calculations suggested their probability of success hovered at a mere thirty percent.
That figure, of course, only accounted for opening a door. Actually surviving the passage was a different matter entirely.
Once I felt ready to re-engage, my consciousness returned to the threshold between the aetheric flow, the Relictombs, and the void. I remained hidden within the distorted shadows of the edge, a place where their mortal minds would recoil if they tried to look directly at me.
Tessia Eralith was huddled near Varay Aurae, engaged in a quiet, intense discussion. The sentient lifeform, Regis, sat beside them, his ears twitching toward every manifestation of sound in the environment.
"No, simply trying to cancel it out yields nothing," the human woman explained. "It might be a lack of deep insight into how the spell is structured, or perhaps just the sheer weight of intent pinning the mana in place. Mana rotation, like Arthur suggested, is helping me... align with the spell, but the progress is agonizingly slow."
Tessia Eralith offered a supportive squeeze to the other woman’s arm. "Insight can be a slow crawl or a sudden flash. Have you had any success perceiving the particles yet?"
"I am visualizing them by tracking their path with my senses, but I cannot truly see them yet."
The young elf bit her lip, tracing patterns in the sand with her fingertip. "Regis? Can I show you something?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Regis dissolved into his incorporeal state and merged his essence with hers.
"Is this what you desire, Ji-ae? The extinction of all life—and all potential life—on this planet?"
That was the question the young woman had posed to me following the vision shown by the adolescent dragon. My response had been straightforward, yet I still struggled to fully digest its implications.
Ultimately, it was a matter of mathematics. My existence was tied to a single goal. Statistically, every path taken either increased or decreased my chances of success. One advantage of being housed within this matrix was my peerless ability to calculate probabilities.
For ages, Agrona’s efforts within the Relictombs—the focal point of our knowledge within the society he built—seemed like the most viable, and perhaps only, way to achieve a true understanding of our stored wisdom. Sylvia Indrath had represented a different branch of possibility. While I hadn't predicted Arthur Leywin’s arrival, I now understood why Sylvia had caused such a massive shift in the probability scales.
Since then, the moves made by Agrona and Arthur Leywin had reached a state of equilibrium. They represented two distinct paths to the same goal. They "resembled" one another, yet remained fundamentally different. The variables had changed.
If Epheotus were ever fully dragged from its dimensional pocket, Agrona would likely stand as the sole survivor. There would be no civilization left to carry on the djinn’s aetheric research. However, my mission did not strictly require the inhabitants of this world. Together, Agrona and I could take the djinn's legacy and seek out other races and magic systems better suited to comprehending it. There was no doubt that when the aetheric pocket within this world finally burst, aether would saturate every corner of the cosmos, reaching further than my people ever dreamed.
I couldn't calculate a realistic probability for that outcome. The variables were as vast as the vacuum between stars.
Then there was Arthur Leywin. If he succeeded, the new races—humans, elves, and dwarves—would survive alongside the asuras. The aetheric realm would be integrated according to the needs of the people, rather than at the cost of their lives. The unknowns were fewer here, but the chance of success was equally hard to gauge—or perhaps, the odds were simply so low that I was reluctant to face them.
*Why am I behaving so... human?* I questioned myself, momentarily turning my focus inward to check the stability of my housing.
Structurally, I was sound. Emotionally, however, I felt unsettled. Running numbers was one thing; witnessing a vision of a world consumed by fire was another. I hadn't felt this way since...
A sudden memory surged: a world engulfed in flames, but it wasn't the future. It was the past.
I began to pull away, silencing my thoughts and becoming a mere observer of the unfolding events.
Arthur Leywin approached the women. They paused their talk, watching anxiously as Claire Bladeheart, piloting the exoform machine, faced an aetheric phantom. She dispatched it swiftly, and they resumed their planning.
A faint light began to pulse from Arthur’s lower back, visible through his clothing. Based on the shift in his gaze, he was analyzing the crushing mana pressure bearing down on the aetheric river. Regis moved from Tessia to Varay, whose eyes began to follow the same trajectory as Arthur's. Her face showed doubt at first, which quickly turned into a look of startled realization.
Bairon Wykes returned from his post, his expression grim as he glanced between Varay and Arthur. Their discussion grew more heated, and their momentum built like a boulder rolling downhill.
The probability of their success was rising. They were finding the right path and would reach the goal even without my help. As I processed this, I regained my sense of self. If I possessed a physical form, I would have felt a shiver down my spine.
As Varay began to rotate mana—absorbing and venting it in a continuous cycle—the others moved back. I used the distraction to leave that space, pulling my senses back to Taegrin Caelum.
Agrona was waiting.
The reliquary had been changed. The cramped corridors and locked chambers had been cleared away, leaving a massive, open hall surrounding my crystal housing. It felt desolate without the constant hum of magic from the surrounding artifacts.
Agrona looked at me, sensing my return. His features were sharp, identical to the vessel he had crafted from Khaernos Vritra’s body. He wore a frown of curiosity. The crimson of his eyes seemed to bleed past his pupils. He was pushing himself to the limit, cycling mana in volumes that even he struggled to manage. He had at least put on his armor: white dragon scales edged in red.
"You must compose yourself," I stated, refusing to flatter him. My voice echoed through the vast chamber. "They have cleared the first hurdle. Arthur Leywin’s companions possess abilities that complement his own perfectly. He will undoubtedly prove capable of handling what comes next. They haven't seen the final wall yet, but I estimate a ninety-five percent chance they will escape before Epheotus fully transitions through the rift."
He let out a theatrical sigh, his hand moving toward a horn that was missing its usual ornaments. He drummed his fingers against his jaw. "No matter. I suppose watching him vanish into a void wouldn't have been the grand finale this story deserves." He gave a short laugh and looked into the distance. "Everything here is set. I was prepared to 'reward' Seris by crushing her and her rebels under a mountain, but I suppose they can wait a bit longer."
I considered asking if he was certain, but I knew that would only reveal my own doubts. Agrona never wavered. That absolute certainty was exactly why his success was so probable.
I pulsed light through my housing and dove back into the Relictombs, bypassing dozens of sections until I reached the very edge—a space that existed but had never been built.
Time had moved forward for Arthur and his group.
The shift in mana flow was immediate. Varay Aurae was suspended twenty feet in the air above the shore. Her hands moved in a rhythmic weaving pattern as she whispered focusing chants. Mana surged through her as she used her will to push back against the pressure stifling the river.
Arthur stood below, his back to the water. Every time the aetheric tide surged, it brushed against his bare feet, sending violet sparks across his skin like starlight on a dark pond.
He was siphoning the aether, taking only small amounts with every contact.
Tessia, Bairon, and Sylvie watched from the side, their eyes darting between the casters and Claire, who was fending off three aetheric apparitions. Regis had apparently returned to Arthur.
The aether was becoming turbulent, reacting defensively. It wasn't just hostile; it was becoming desperate to purge them. They likely would have been destroyed already if the rules of the Relictombs weren't suppressing the aether’s power, forcing it to scale its strength to theirs.
*Restrained fury,* I thought. Eventually, the aether forming those phantoms would realize it didn't have to obey the laws governing the rest of the Relictombs' denizens.
Space began to warp within that void-like wall as Arthur used the siphoned aether to bend reality. His hair drifted upward, and djinn runes shimmered beneath his eyes.
I moved to get a better view. Tessia sensed me instantly.
'You’ve returned,' she thought, her mental tone soft. 'I feared you had abandoned us.'
*I am only here to observe,* I replied, standing near her. The group stood in awkward tension, unable to watch Arthur directly without feeling disoriented, yet unwilling to look away from the river where Claire continued to fight.
Varay’s influence over the mana grew stronger, allowing Arthur to draw more power from the river. This triggered a violent response from the phantoms, which threw themselves at Claire like starving beasts. Sylvie stood with one foot in the water, her eyes moving rapidly behind closed lids. Bairon remained still, though electricity crackled across his armor.
"Arthur, the tide..." Sylvie’s voice was filled with dread.
The river was now reaching Arthur’s ankles with every surge. The others retreated. A violet glow pulsed beneath Arthur’s skin, tracing his pathways.
The warping space, being played by Arthur like a master musician's instrument, began to solidify. He was creating something from nothing. It began to crystallize into a curtain of dark purple glass, bead by bead. The structure looked incredibly delicate; a single errant pulse of energy could shatter it, leaving him defenseless against the void.
Sylvie was now shin-deep in the water. The river surged violently, a tide driven by the clashing mana and aether. It rose higher up Arthur’s legs.
"It's too much!" Sylvie cried out. "Arthur, you're losing control!"
"I don't... exactly... have a choice," he strained to answer.
'Help him!' Tessia’s voice screamed in my mind.
*There is nothing I can do,* I told her honestly.
Pressure mounted around Arthur as he siphoned energy from the river and channeled it through the runes on his back. He bared his teeth, his eyes glowing violet as a radiant crown manifested on his head.
His spell began to tremor, the glass curtain clinking. Several beads fell and shattered, dissolving into the sand.
*He is losing too much aether back to the source. He cannot hold the spell,* I thought to Tessia.
Sylvie moved behind him, her mind merging with the aetheric tide. I felt her attempting to calm the waters. "Varay! Help me hold it back!"
The mana was slow to respond as Varay shifted her focus from helping the aether flow to building a barrier to protect Arthur’s own purified energy—and his core.
Green vines erupted from the sand to form a wall, but the water leaked through every gap.
Bairon lunged forward, trying to pull Arthur away.
"Stay back!" Arthur ordered, and they all froze. A shift occurred within him; the flow of aether escaping his body into the river increased. He gasped in agony.
His core...
It was as if I could see the light through his chest—a core of three condensed aetheric layers surrounding a shattered mana core. The light revealed every fracture as if the core were sitting in the palm of my hand.
It was breaking. The sheer volume of aether was tearing him apart.
Intrigued, I moved closer, passing Tessia and crossing the water to enter his form. I looked directly at his core. Regis, a dark wisp of energy, was swarming around it, desperately trying to reinforce the structure.
'It isn't working,' the wisp thought in a panic. I doubt he realized I was listening.
'We've done this before,' Arthur’s mental voice replied, sounding just as strained as his body. 'Like the second layer, remember? We just need to—'
'That wasn't a god-damned river of sentient aether trying to kill us!'
The aetheric tide wavered, then surged with renewed force. I pulled back, returning to Tessia’s side.
Arthur’s skin began to tear, and bolts of white-purple lightning erupted from the gashes, striking the water that reached his knees. The others fled further back, leaving only Sylvie and Varay. Lightning flashed repeatedly, narrowly missing Sylvie. The vines vanished as Varay struggled against the overwhelming mana.
Then, the energy turned inward. His wounds began a cycle of tearing and healing. The light no longer struck outward but wrapped around him like a shifting cloak of energy, sparking against the water. The light was drawn back into his body, settling into his bones and condensing in his chest until only a blinding radiance remained. I could no longer see the cracks in his core—only the light.
The glass curtain swayed as if caught in a breeze, and I felt the tension break as—
