I became aware of several things in quick succession as I answered the entity.

First and most importantly, I had lost most of the functions built into my astral body. It wasn’t surprising since I had fundamentally changed by becoming a soul, or something very close at least, by cannibalizing the structures responsible for those functions. Still, I had to suppress a lament for all the lost power I had carefully cultivated over the ages.

Second, I was blind, at least partially. I couldn’t sense anything except the consciousness that held me with its will. My first thought pinned my sudden lack of senses on my lost functionality but even at my weakest, I had been able to sense a portion of the astral sector in which I resided, not that there had been much to perceive until the shadow’s invasion. No, I realized this likely had to do with the nature of souls and how they interacted with the Astral. I was essentially a newborn and unbound soul despite my age and potential power. Admittedly, the relationship between untethered souls and the Astral was a hole in my study due to my distance from mortals in the past two millennia.

Lastly, the entity had only a tenuous grasp on me. I wasn’t sure why but I knew that I could escape its hold and return to my home sector of the Astral if I simply willed it.

Perhaps, it has to do with my new state of being or the covenant between myself and the shadow? I wondered.

I didn’t have to wonder for long. My musings were not as private as I would’ve liked.

“A covenant...? It is bound! A pawn of the Shadow! A piece of bait left by the Ancient Dark! Cast it out lest its presence defiles the Archives!” said a voice different from the one that originally spoken.

“The Crawling Shadow would not move against us and this creature has no power here,” another, calmer voice said.

“Yes, your low synchronicity rate shows, Eighty-Seven. Murky though they may be, this anomaly’s independence is clear within its Records.” rasped a third voice.

Frustratingly, I couldn’t perceive any of these entities aside from their projected communications so I had to rely on the nuances of their psychic impressions to tell them apart. My lack of knowledge of the entities and the immense strength of the force attempting to hold me normally would’ve guaranteed my departure from the situation. However, the Weeping Sun’s vision and insight lingered in my mind; I had an opportunity within reach and I merely needed to grasp it.

Several more voices entered the fray as a discussion broke out about my nature and what should be done with me. I remained silent, taking in information by listening to them and futilely attempting to muster a modicum of mana. Suddenly, the din went silent when a new presence made itself known.

“Why do you not escape?” it asked, its tone simultaneously curious and distant. Before answering, I savored the texture of its communication. Therein, I found a lace of pure mana woven with such intricacy that I momentarily paused to marvel at it in unabashed appreciation. Normally, such a construct would be cause for alarm because it might denote insidious intent on the part of the sender similar to the way mortals could impart their mana into spoken words to compel or influence those who hear them.

I knew that wasn’t the case here since the lace, while beautifully intricate, lacked intent in its design. It was akin to a marvelous sculpture crafted by a master yet left devoid of any agenda or personality so only a piece of surreal art remained. If that sounds impossible, then my amazement should come as no surprise.

I deconstructed the weave using only the touch of my will and made a few subtle adjustments improving on its construction with no intention other than to enhance its clarity. In hindsight, it’s a bit embarrassing to think about as I acted no better than a child momentarily enamored with a shiny, new toy.

“A desire to escape would mean that I am confined or threatened in this situation. I am neither. It is I who sought you out.” I responded, placing my improved lace of mana within the communication.

Several of the voices projected feelings akin to anger and incredulity. I say akin because the messages and “emotions” communicated by these creatures were alien compared to anything I had felt from humans or even between myself and Libbu. That said, I could tell they had had extensive interactions with some type of sapient mortals since their communications bore a certain structural intent that defined the majority of mortal communication methods. Nonetheless, none of them spoke despite bristling indignation. I sensed their inherent subservience to the entity that earned my admiration for its artistry with mana.

“What purpose has brought you before us?” the leader, as I had come to think of it, asked.

I didn’t answer for the entity. Not because I lacked a response but because the mana construct within the question caused my mind to come up short for a long time. Even now, with hundreds of years spent among mankind and the other mortal races, I am not sure I can explain with words what the leader of those voices created. That said, I will try.

The structure bore similarities with a sentence in most mortal languages reduced to its foundations.

Consider the function; they are constructs of words which themselves are vessels for meaning. For many, the chain ends there since a deeper look isn’t necessary for the conveyance of ideas. However, one could dive further into any sentence to find more than the meaning of each word or their combination. Where did these words originate? Did they have an original meaning? What concepts underly each individually? What collective understandings or truths were said concepts built upon? Now, imagine a sentence formed of those underlying truths and concepts, uncontained by the vessels that allow the mind to quickly grasp the meaning.

The leader had presented a structure composed of Concepts and Truths, somehow interlinked within a structure while their depth and breadth remained intact. It was vague, confusing, and nonsensical, as I’m sure this explanation must seem, yet I slowly began to find a path to understanding.

With little regard for anything else, I sank into the process.

I lost all sense of time and my limited perception of my surroundings. Several hurdles blocked my way as I navigated the leader’s creation, one Truth at a time. Sadly, I couldn’t comprehend every Concept and even more of the Truths evaded my grasp. Still, like a man might use context clues to understand an unknown word, I slid my consciousness against the framework of each unknown gaining tidbits of knowledge each time. Eventually, I had a passable conception of everything within, and more importantly, I gained insight into its formulation.

My saving grace came down to the nature of my development. For the majority of my life, I cultivated pure mana, uncolored by any Concepts. My mastery of mana and proximity to the great underlying Truth far eclipsed my understanding of my chosen Concept, the soul, and its foundational Truths.

My intimacy with the nature of pure mana lit the way through the dark of my ignorance.

“I wish to make a pact with your primary core,” I said once I had modified the structure to include hints of the Truths of the soul, many of which it lacked, and entwined it with the commination. “I see within the artistry and mastery of your structures that you possess a breadth of knowledge beyond my current comprehension. However, I believe I have much value to add to your Records.”

During the discussion between the voices earlier, I had noticed them refer to each other by numbers between one to ninety-nine. That along with other bits of information supported my conclusion that these entities were the sub-cores of the astral behemoth whose grasp I sat within. Moreover, I suspected the leader wasn’t the primary core because it lacked the depth and power comparable to the ancient shadow’s core.

As for my proposition? I wasn’t very confident in its success but opportunities are as fleeting as the wind for those who wait for assurances.

I waited for a response, considering my next move depending on the entity’s answer. The wait continued… and continued. I felt the beginnings of discomfort as I noticed the attention of all ninety-nine sub-cores settle on me. I almost inquired about the delay but decided against it because a sudden onset of pride refused to allow a show of uncertainty.

Finally, the leader spoke and its voice lacked the distance I previously sensed. I had earned its undivided attention.

“Before any agreements can be made, I must correct your ignorance of us. We ninety-nine are the Keepers of the Akashic Records and I am Akasha, sub-core Eleven and current Curator of the Records.” It paused for a breath as though stopping to consider something. “As for your request, you cannot interact with the primary core but you may deal with me.”

For a moment, I pondered its words. I had some knowledge of the Akashic Records due to my brief glimpse of Lucille’s memories during our time together. The message conveyed by the leader mentioned the name exactly, meaning either I was privy to an unbelievable coincidence or the humans had somehow gained knowledge of the entity known as the Akashic Records. I bristled at the implications.

It appears that absent oversight of any kind those foolish apes found ways to bumble about in the expanse of the Astral, I thought to myself. I had hoped that the incident with Lucille’s Archmage had been an isolated event yet even I had to admit, it was much more likely that the ritual calling of the Crawling Shadow was the culmination of sorcerers probing into the Astral beyond the Old World’s sector without my knowledge. Perhaps, it is fortunate that it took them this long to doom themselves. I barely survived my encounter with the Shadow and had I been any weaker, the entire sector may have fallen.

Deep within the depths of my mind, a voice whispered that none of this would have happened had I watched over the humans instead of ignoring them for the better part of three millennia. I chose to push those thoughts to the side finding no use in things I couldn’t change and turned my focus back to the matter at hand.

“I will not accept any negotiations not made with your core structures,” I said after briefly weighing my options. “Although a binding forged with a sub-core might be feasible, I cannot know whether it would truly bind the Akashic Records, and thus I cannot be sure of the fidelity in any arrangement we come to.”

“Cannot be sure of the fidelity?” one of the voices wheezed, full of indignation.

Another rasped, “The child’s ignorance shows…”

“To question the integrity of an Aspect…”

“Only one capable of making a covenant with the Shadow could be so blind.”

On and on, the Keepers went. I had believed my dealings with astral beings would lack the distinct flavor of politicking found in mortal relations especially after my encounter with the Shadow. Yet, the experience brought to mind memories of my time spent incognito in royal courts as I elevated interesting mortals to power. Like an actor in a play that I had seen many times, Akasha, the leader of the Keepers, let the lesser sub-cores continue for a time allowing their descent to echo to build tension in an otherwise straightforward discussion. Finally, its presence expanded emanating a desire for silence and silence it was granted.

I found the drama both amusing and comforting.

Were I a normal soul with mortal experiences and a proper frame of reference for Aspects, I might have been intimidated.

“You misunderstand, Nascent Soul. You cannot interact with the core structures of the Akashic Records. We, the Akashic Records, embody the breadth and depth of mortal knowledge, past, present, and when projections allow, future. Your essence lacks the attunement to our Concepts and Truths and your ‘soul’ is unstable. You would be unable to maintain yourself when interacting with our core structures.”

I nearly scoffed at Akasha’s assertion yet its words were punctuated with an image. At first, I didn’t understand what I was being shown despite the obvious context. I saw a vaguely humanoid shape floating in an ocean of mana that bore the signature of the Akashic Records. Only after a moment did I realize that I was looking at myself.

Iridescent chains of psykhe intertwined with each other along the torso, arms, and legs of my form. However, they weren’t hindering me instead they kept the overflowing essence of my being from escaping. The image reminded me of a homespun doll, overstuffed yet held together by taut stitching at the seams. In the center, two structures, one significantly more prominent than the other, orbited around what I could only guess was my core structures.

The centerpiece resembled an extremely modified rendition of my Astral Gate construct with thousands of substructures, likely the remnants of my fundamental structures, laced throughout like etching on a stone edifice. Since it was embedded in the framework of my soul, I knew that I had constructed it but I had no memory of doing so. Had I created it during my transformation while overwhelmed by the shadow’s ritual? Perhaps, but the structure could’ve manifested as a reflection of my conception of the ideal soul. If the latter were true, the Astral Gate would be nigh impossible to remove or modify until I regained my former power; something that I was certain would provide no small amount of frustration further down the line as my understanding of psykhe and the soul deepened.

Ideal concepts born amidst ignorance rarely withstand the rigors of the practical world and to this day, I have yet to meet anyone absent ignorance from powerless mortals to Aspects.

The smaller of the orbiting objects was the collection of Libbu’s core structures that I had kept within myself. I was relieved to find its fidelity uncompromised from my covenant with the Shadow and subsequent metamorphosis.

The second, more prominent of the two had little to do with myself or Libbu and everything to do with the Shadow. The object bore a resemblance to the Old World’s sun yet it radiated darkness and cold rather than light and warmth. The closer I looked into the dark sun the more unnerved I became until I felt a gaze upon the center of my being. I recoiled from the void. The primordial fear welling within my mind dispersed before it could take hold and I turned my attention outward, shaken but alert.

“I see your point,” I projected to Akasha. “IF I cannot interact directly with your core structure, would the core be willing to project a portion of its will into you so that it may be included in the covenant?”

“You would be capable of such a thing?” Akasha asked.

“Of course,” was my only answer. The inquiry further cemented my growing confidence in the offer I had for the Akashic Records.

Its curiosity revealed ignorance to what I thought was an obvious if much less efficient alternative. If a covenant made with a sub-core had a lesser effect on the primary core, this option wouldn’t negate that fact. No, at best, the arrangement would bring the primary core further under the sway of the covenant, and at worst, it would allow me to keep tabs on the core interference with the covenant in case it tried to alter or subvert its hold on Akasha.

I had to wait for far too long in silence for a reply but it came, eventually.

“Very well,” the Curator agreed. When Akasha spoke, another consciousness entered the fray like a phantom at the fringes of a crowd. I would have missed it had it not explicitly made itself known to me Still, I knew the newcomer was a fragment core structure’s will due to the depth of its near-ethereal presence. “As the party to propose the covenant, you may state your initial terms.”

“I seek guidance for humanity on the fundamentals of mana and cultivation, preservation of the world known as Earth on which they reside, assistance finding a vessel within the Physical on Earth and uncorrupted mana for the natives of Earth to study or attune to. In exchange, I offer a window into my core structures for the observation of the fruition of my covenant with the entity known as the Crawling Shadow and analysis of my Records.”

I would be exposing myself to ill intent and giving away my innermost secrets to the Akashic Records as I regained my strength but I was willing to do so to preserve Libbu’s dream and future. Additionally, I would also benefit from the guidance granted to humanity

“And what are the terms of your covenant with the Crawling Shadow?” The Curator asked.

“To destroy and consume the Crawling Shadow or be consumed along with my sector and twisted by its corruption until the end of its existence.”

The message fell upon the Keepers much like the Shadow itself might, stifling all activity and bringing quiet stillness. Despite my lack of perceptive ability, I sense the phantom-like presence convey something to Akasha before the Curator responded.

“We put forward an amendment for terms of this covenant. You will grant us a full reading of your current Records before the formation of the covenant to assess the probability of you succeeding on your end of the Shadow’s covenant. If projections are within an adequate range, we will move forward with the covenant.

“Before I answer, what are Records?”

“The Records are the collection of all that is known of every mortal individual, group, or hive-mind that the Akashic Records has interacted within its eons of existence. An individual’s Records, such as we are requiring of you, encompasses the totality of what you know including that which you know yet do not realize.”

I stopped to consider that statement finding myself increasingly dissatisfied. The amendment gave too much away before the covenant was sealed leaving only the future and its potential as bargaining chips. Much of the confidence I had in my proposition stemmed from the suspicion that I had knowledge that the Akashic Records didn’t possess in regards to the soul and its Truths. As an embodiment of knowledge, albeit mortal knowledge, the desire to know more of a Concept and Truth intrinsic to the mortal experience would be too tempting for it to refuse. This was even more so the case since my covenant with the Shadow seemed to obscure my Records from the Keepers’ senses. My only solace was that it specified “current Records” as opposed to continual access.

“And what qualifies as within an adequate range?” I asked Akasha, failing to hide the entirety of my dissatisfaction,

“That is a complex question to answer but to put it in human terms for your understanding if your chance of success is higher than one-tenth of a percent, it will be considered within an adequate range.” Akasha communicated.

“That is unreasonable,” I replied automatically. Although it didn’t sound like much, the Curator was stipulating that my chances of overcoming an entity far older and stronger than anything I had ever known be higher than one in a thousand. Even at my most optimistic, I placed my odds at closer to one in a million. My disbelief brought on another question. “What if my chances at not adequate or I refuse your amendment?

The response came immediately.

“If your chance of success is inadequate, the terms of the covenant will be amended to only grant preservation of the planet known as Earth in exchange for unrestricted observation of your covenant with the Crawling Shadow. If you reject our amendment, our dealing will be concluded and communications will come to an end.”

The response didn’t leave me with many options. Although Akasha could be misleading me, the price of rejecting its amendment to the covenant was high while acceptance bore advantages even in the worst-case scenario. The only downside lay in the ramifications of giving away my current Records to an entity of enormous power which I knew very little about.

Ultimately, the dichotomy of my future proved the deciding factor. If I failed, the decisions I made would all lead to the same state of darkness and torment within the Shadow. If I succeeded, I was confident that I’d be powerful enough to alter the terms, implicit or explicit, of any covenant, if not break them altogether.

“Very well,” I said, somewhat reluctantly. “I accept your amendment under the established understanding and grant you access to my Records.”

As soon as I communicated the message, the weight of the Akashic Records in its entirety descended upon my being. For the first time since my initial observation of the astral behemoth, I felt its power in comparison to the Shadow. It was simultaneously more powerful yet much less dangerous, or at least that’s all I could tell until it began reading my Records.

The process was… unpleasant, much like watching a dispassionate attendant flip through a file containing all of one’s actions and words since birth showing the same interest in mundane occurrences as momentous achievements.

Faster than expected, the reading ended and the weight withdrew.

“Congratulations, the requirements have been met. Let it be done.”

I had no time to process the successful deal before I was once again overwhelmed by my second covenant with an Aspect.

***

Meanwhile, on the Old World, events unfolded that I would only learn of later. The power of an Aspect’s presence bled into the very fabric of the Physical. Despite my covenant and the Shadow’s subsequent withdrawal, the Old World’s sector would never be the same.

Humans died in droves as the Shadow’s mana changed the Old World to suit its nature. The sun darkened and the nature of life changed. Plants and animals died or mutated to fit their new environments. Scavengers who followed in the Shadow’s wake found the Old World and found a supple babe in the place of a ruined carcass. The supernatural elements of the world and the secrets of magic were ironically forced out of the shadows in response to the changing world order. Ancient creatures and men who walked through the ages were pulled out of torpor to fight for their place on the food chain.

The few reliable accounts of the Great Trial marked this period as the Shadow’s Passing and the beginning of the Great Trial.

Fortunately for humanity, this time was relatively brief lasting only three months. One day, the chaos was quelled and the most powerful of the scavengers were temporarily banished from the sector. On that day, every sapient creature in the Old World received the same message.

[Sector 9917-ARCS-1, known to inhabitants as the Solar Astral, has been initiated into the Akashic Record Covenant System. Your Patron has placed certain conditions on your initiation: Please stand by while the conditions are met.]