“So, before you talk to your Mom about your Aspect, I think it would be best if we talk more about how it actually works.”

Armsmaster and I had just finished the night’s training, this time not learning anything new, but rather going over the basics from previous lessons, to help further cement my development.

We are now seated on the floor of the training room, where Armsmaster said she had something she wanted to discuss.

“Okay,” I say.

“Now, I told you before that magic entered the world long before I came into being, yes?” She waits for me to nod before continuing. “What I hadn’t mentioned, though I certainly implied, is that I am one of the first seven. Back then, when people first started to discover their ability to use magic, monsters had yet to manifest themselves as any significant threat. Relics were not yet a thing, magic was new and largely not understood, and whilst there was conflict it was… tame, for lack of a better word.

“But then monsters went from malformed piles of primordial sludge to something that could cause the people significant harm. They became a universal threat. Magical understanding propagated, and with it came the spread of its use. As mages began to use their magic more, monsters began to manifest more and more often as a consequence. In response, the mages fought back against the monsters, and thus spawned the first Relics. At first, they believed them to be a final gift from gods long forsaken, but as time passed, and the Relics turned Feral, they learned they were a double edged sword, if you’ll pardon the pun.

“Chaos broke out. Mages under the sway of Feral Relics cut a swathe across the lands, and where they didn’t pass Nightmares quickly filled the gap. Darker magics were embraced in a desperate attempt to stave off the flood, but like the Relics it too backfired. And so you have a world filled with dangers. Nightmares, Feral Relics, monster hordes, dark magic, and the depravity of their fellow people. As a collective, however unknowing, the people were desperate for a way to fight back the tide of nigh-endless horrors.

“This desperation reacted with the still fluid nature of how magic works in this world. It called out into an ether as yet unformed, and from it came an answer. Seven spirits, undefined in purpose but knowing they bore a responsibility. Each felt in themselves the potential for a power that could answer the call for aid. The people needed a way to fight the Nightmares, and so came the Beastslayer, and from his own potential he forged the Soultaker Aspect. They cried out for a way to protect their cities from monster hordes, and so came the Guardian, with his Final Bastion. Too many injured clogged the streets, with too few to aid them, and so came the Healer, and her Hall of Redemption. Too much knowledge was lost to the chaos, and so came the Lorekeeper, and her Glass Library.

“Too many people had lost those they loved, and so came the Deadspeaker, and the Hall of Last Rest. Dark magic had ravaged the lives of too many, and so came the Arcanist, and the Grimoire of Ages to seal those secrets. Feral Relics, and those who wielded them, were becoming nigh-unstoppable, and so came the Armsmaster, with the Astral Armoury to contain their madness.”

She was silent for a time, giving me what I needed to digest her words. Given she came into being in a time when the world was in such strife, it's understandable why she’s so adamant to take her role so seriously, even after all this time.

“I am what has been called a Legacy Guide,” Armsmaster continues, “The Armoury is known as a Legacy Aspect. You, Valerie, are the latest in a very, very long line of Claimants to the Legacy of Armaments.”

“That’s… a very impressive sounding title,” I say, a little shocked. “How long did it take to bring things to a reasonable level?”

She grimaces. “Too long. The Legacy changed hands enough times I lost count before it was over. It doesn’t exactly help matters that, unlike other Guides and Aspects, the Legacy of Armaments chooses a bearer at birth, instead of when they’d Awaken.”

An idea occurs to me. Armsmaster said the other Guides started showing up well after she did, and she hadn’t yet said anything about how Aspects came about or when, so…

“Did the Aspects start showing up after you did? Like with the other Guides?”

She looks at me appraisingly. “Insightful. Yes, we believe that our appearance, along with the Aspects each we made in the same moment, is responsible for the other Aspects. Like throwing a stone in a pond, the ripples spread outward, so the effects of what we made rippled outward and reacted with the souls of others, creating more, but weaker Aspects on its own.”

So. Legacy. That’s a word that carries its own weight if I’d ever heard one.

“Why are you telling me all this now? Surely it’s not just because you want me to get Mom’s cloak into the Armoury?”

“It's partially that, and partially that when we first spoke, when I told you the Armoury was special but refused to say why, I had yet to get any kind of measure of you. What’s more, you were in no small amount of distress, and it would have been a bad time to decide if it was safe to speak on. But I have spent the past week and more in your head, Valerie. And each night was spent gauging your interactions both with myself and how you treated the Armoury. You rarely say anything without having considered your words in some fashion, so I think it's safe to say you understand the gravity of the responsibility you now bear.”

That was an understatement.

“So how do you think I should approach Mom about this?” I ask.

She thinks for a moment. “See if she has a way to ensure privacy. Enchantments to make a barrier that sound won’t pass aren’t exactly cheap, but she’s bound to have something to make certain you won’t be overheard, given who she is.”

“Okay,” I nod. “I’ll do my best.”

Armsmaster smiles, “Your best will be plenty.”

**********************

“So what exactly is this about, Valerie?” Mom asks after she had put up an enchanted privacy ward.

Once I woke up, and had had breakfast, I told Mom as we ate there was something I wanted to talk about. She seemed concerned, likely because of our talk last night, but not overly so. Aunt Tamaya has an office we can use so we headed there for it. It’s pretty understated, much like the garden in her yard. The desk is of a rich dark wood that looks moderately expensive, but it's unadorned. There are two bookshelves, one on either side, made of the same wood. One is filled with books, the other what looks like souvenirs from her travels with Mom.

I decided to stay standing, whilst Mom had turned the plush chair around to face me and sat down. She then pulled out a disk made of a very light coloured wood, engraved with fine markings around the edge. She placed it on the desk behind her and laid a finger on it, and after a moment to infuse some neutral mana, it pulsed with a soft glow. Then a faint wave rippled out from it, barely felt.

“Well,” I start, “you know how I still haven’t said what my Aspect is actually called?”

I catch a glint of curiosity in her eye, but at the same time she relaxes almost imperceptibly. It seems she was a little worried this was about last night.

“Yes. I did notice your rather obvious attempts to deflect whenever its name was brought up. You are a lot of things, Valerie, but a liar is not among them,” she says with a hint of mirth.

I blush. She’s not wrong. Every time Mom, Aunt Tamaya, or Sophie said anything that would lead to my giving the name of my Aspect, I flailed internally. I may react quickly in a fight, but a large part of that comes from my enhancement. When surprised outside of enhancement? I’m not so graceful, either socially or physically.

Well, this is just going to get awkward if I beat around the bush, might as well just go right out and say it.

“It's called the Astral Armoury.” I blurt, a bit flustered.

Mom is silent for a moment. Then she closes her eyes, sighs, and says to herself, “Damnit Tamaya. You are not allowed to be smug about this”

“You, ah, you know it then?”

She snorts and leans back in her chair. “The Aspect of one of the rarest Legacies we know of? Yes, I’ve heard the stories of it. Didn’t actually think it was real.”

“Stories?”

“If they’re true then it hasn’t been seen in over a thousand years. Stories are essentially all we have of it.”

“Oh.”

“I take it the one about it being able to make a countless number of weapons is just a story, then? Given you only ever showed us four.”

“Um. Well, sort of? Armsmaster says whenever it encounters a design it doesn’t recognise, it makes a copy, then I can use that weapon myself. That doesn’t mean it's a good idea to do so, of course. I’ve only just started learning the few weapons Armsmaster has let me bond with. So I guess… yes and no?”

She raises an eyebrow. “I see. Regardless, I assume there’s a reason you decided to tell me this now? Just like there’s a reason you kept it hidden in the first place?”

I nod. “I didn’t say anything before because Armsmaster said it wouldn’t be worth the risk, and I’m telling you now because she says that, despite being on Earth for sixteen years, your cloak is on the threshold of becoming a Relic.”

Mom looks stunned. “That’s not possible.”

I shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mom. That’s what Armsmaster said, and out of anyone, she would know.”

“No, I mean it's not possible because it's too young. The shortest a weapon has been known to take to become a Relic was 25 years, and that was in a country that had been mired in conflict for nearly 80. It was almost literally soaked in blood. I’d been using that cloak for almost 30 years, but it's seen nowhere near the same degree of conflict. That, combined with being in a magically dead world for over a decade? Is there no way Armsmaster is mistaken?”

I wait for Armsmaster’s response, certain she’s listening in. It doesn’t take long.

“I won’t claim it's not possible. I’ve been wrong before, certainly, but this time? It is literally a single push from transition. But if she needs proof, then how about this; ask her if she has an easier time shaping it than other metals.”

“She said to ask if you have an easier time shaping it than other pieces of metal.”

Mom blinks in confusion, then looks introspective. Then she seems to come to a realisation. “It is easier. I never even noticed, I never really did much with it at times when it wasn't necessary, so I always had something else on my mind. Which is itself a hint, I suppose. Other metals require some degree of focus at least, but the feathers of my cloak sometimes feel like another limb. Strange, that I never noticed that.”

“The change was likely subtle, and like she said, there was always something else to focus on. Regardless, the metal being more susceptible to intrusion from her mana and manipulation is a sure sign of a nascent Relic.”

“Yeah, Armsmaster says there’s no doubt.”

Mom turns thoughtful. “I see. And you want to store it in the Armoury in case it goes Feral early? An understandable concern, given its strangely rapid growth.”

What? Does she not know what the Armoury does with weaker Ferals?

“Um, actually, I want to put it into the Armoury so Armsmaster can finish its transition to a Relic. She says if the Armoury’s responsible for the change, then it’ll have a mechanism installed to prevent it going Feral. It’ll grow slower in exchange, but I think we can both agree it's a worthwhile trade.”

Mom looks… actually I don’t know what to call it. Wistful? With a bit of eagerness? Anyway, she leans forward and says, “A Relic of my own? With no risk of succumbing to a Feral? Valerie, you may be somewhat spoiled here, given your Aspect, but do you have any idea how big that is? We found only a handful of Relics, Tamaya, Alex, Roland, and I. And the only one that would be a fit for any of us was Spiritseeker, Alex’s bow. A Relic with a name was an extremely lucky find, to be sure. Most Relics are kept in the vaults of kingdoms and nobility, hoarded as strategic assets. And you can just make me a Relic?”

I shuffle my feet. “Well, not me exactly. And I wouldn’t call it making either, you did most of the work.”

“Regardless, Valerie, I would be the biggest fool I have ever known to turn an opportunity like this down. What do we need to do?”

It's been a while since I’d last seen Mom genuinely excited.

“One moment, the Armsmaster hasn’t actually told me where to go from here.”

She nods and leans back.

“Okay, so you aren’t at a point where making a doorway would be feasible, but that’s not an issue. You do, however, have the time to learn how to store objects in the Armoury, and I can take the cloak from your personal storage once it's here and get the process started on my end. Ask her to get it out.”

I look at Mom, who was watching me as Armsmaster spoke. “Could you get it out? Lay it on the ground too, please?”

“Of course,” she says. She holds out her hand above the ground, and with a flash from her ring the cloak of steel feathers appears on the ground.

I step over to the cloak and kneel on the ground.

“Okay, the process is fairly simple, but a little tricky at the same time. What you’re going to do is pull out and neutralize about an eighth of your mana. You won’t need as much as when manifesting me, thankfully. Once you have enough, spread it around the cloak in the shape of a bubble, then collapse the bubble evenly across it, whilst projecting the image of it being pulled into a space within yourself. The Armoury and I will handle the rest.”

I nod and raise my hands above the cloak. It’s not necessary, but it helps with the mindset. I draw out a few threads of mana, then press down on them with that feeling of emptiness again. I had practised it a little more since Armsmaster taught me how to do it, but I’m still not used to the feeling.

Once I have enough, like she said, I wrap it around the cloak as evenly as I can make it. Then I pull the mana inwards from all sides, imagining it slipping inside a hole in my being.

It happens quickly, like a magician pulling a cloth off a trick, it disappears.

“Great! I’ll get this processed and we’ll have ourselves a new Relic.”

At the same time, Mom says, “Did it work?”

She looks a little concerned, which is understandable. I imagine it has no small amount of sentimental value.

I nod. “Yeah, it's done. Armsmaster is getting it started.”

“Did she say how long it would take?”

“A few days. If nothing complicates the process, which it shouldn’t, then you’ll have it back before I have to enrol for Cardinal.”

“Good.” Mom turns to the device emitting the privacy ward, and picks it back up. The moment she lays a hand on it, it goes dark. With a small flash of light, it returns to her ring.

She turns back to me and stands up. “I haven’t told you this enough, but I am proud of you, Valerie. Never forget that.”

I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”