Daiden felt his soul fragment lift from his body as particles, shooting into the pages one after the other. His eyes stirred when the brightness dulled to the sight of trees in patches, across a vast and green landscape. His heart tremored with the emotions of a young Takshaka, in the shape of a human now, but stronger still. He sprinted into the tall grass, screaming at the top of his lungs, free from the shackles that had once restrained him within Rebellion Grave.

Deeper into the grasslands, Takshaka danced without inhibition. He stretched and swayed, formless, and yet beautifully. He listened to the winds, to the whispers from the butterflies, and to the soft steps of rodents. Naked, without a stitch of clothes, Takshaka absorbed the warmth from the sun and cheerily dug into the soil with his fingers. He collapsed from the eventual exhaustion, in a wide smile. His chest heaved, fast at first, and then to a calm.

[Freedom! Freedom…I have strength now! Feet to dance, fingers to hold things…I’m…human!]

Daiden’s eyes welled with tears of happiness. He experienced everything in magnification, the smallest of emotions from Takshaka.

[But what do I do now? Sword Aeter. I can absorb and cultivate Sword Aeter. But am I truly human? Do I want to become human, a High Human?]

Takshaka sprang to his feet and checked his body. His magic tremored with inconsistency, breaking to show his serpent-like scales in certain parts. He laughed out loud, in innocence, and remembered the formula his mother had taught him. His aeter shimmered to form an angular, almost feminine face. He touched his smooth, olive skin and happily brightened with a toothy grin. His eyes reflected a calming, jade colour, and his hair messily fell on all sides – some raised and dry, others soft and at rest. He brushed his fingers against his head and tied his dark, almost black hair to one side, away from his forehead.

For hours, Takshaka crouched and waited for something. His stomach grumbled with hunger. He persisted. After some time, he noticed an old man walk along a road near the grasslands. He remembered his mother’s instructions from when he was still a serpent and stealthily followed him, pressed to the ground and in a crawl. Takshaka moved on all fours and reached a clearing with several mounds, a few with thick, sculpted stones erected in front of them.

Immersed, Daiden embraced Takshaka’s curiosity with what appeared to be a cemetery.

The old man, in tears, arranged some flowers and conversed with the mound. It amused Takshaka, the sadness of a man. He risked moving a little closer, catching a few words at first, and then a portion of the conversation.

“You were better than me, in every way possible, the light in my life. My son, why did you beg of me to do this? My hands tremble to this day, from when I held a blade to your throat, as you guided it to rid yourself of the disease and suffering. This curse! This immortality! Why are we a part of this?”

Takshaka shrunk from the revelation, burdened with fear. He burrowed his nails into the soil and held his breath. When the old man moved, Takshaka followed at a cautious distance. They reached a small town, and a shop soon after, a tailor’s shop. The old man dragged his feet atop a three-step stairway and slumped onto a chair. He rested, breathing the rot in his shop, now desolate and unwanted. The people ignored him, from sunup to sundown. Takshaka waited for days, in observation of the small shop. His stomach grumbled again, only louder.

[I’m hungry! Very hungry…]

Daiden started to feel the pain in his stomach as well. In that moment, he immersed almost entirely into Takshaka’s memories; his own faded, and in a blur. He focused merely on the story in front of him, the seconds, the minutes, the days. He remembered along with Takshaka, the reason behind why he left Rebellion Grave. Takshaka and Daiden stared together, at the former’s palms. Their minds in singular thought.

[I need food…I need strength, to master the sword.]

Simplicity.

Takshaka sunk in resignation. When the moon shone onto him, he turned and gazed at the stars.

[A tailor…Mother, you once spoke of them…tailors, they make clothes, keep people warm. Why is he lonely then? Why does no one ever visit this person?]

[Ah, I need food…]

Takshaka almost threw a tantrum. But even as he slammed his fists, he shifted to stare at the tailor’s shop, its entrance specifically. He straightened his knees and walked towards the door, strange and without clothes. His hand rested against the soft, moist wood, and slowly retreated. He struck it, once. He knocked on the door, until his nose wrinkled to the smell something pungent and cheap.

When the door opened, Takshaka faced the same man, only drunk and red across his ears.

[You’re sad. You ache. But I see nothing but a kindness in your eyes. Why do the people not love you in your loneliness? Why do they leave you be? Is this what it means…to be human?]

Daiden felt his emotions swirl in a frenzy. He suffered a heavy sadness. It hollowed his chest with pain, making him shiver in a cold. His body tremored. He absorbed everything from both Takshaka and the man.

“I can’t take it anymore!” whispered Daiden, in a stammer. His eyes blurred from the memory, almost as if to protect his mind from the consequence of the immersion. But with a deep breath, Daiden clenched his fists and returned to Takshaka’s body. “No…not yet. There must be a reason you’re showing me this.”

The old man sobered at the sight of Takshaka, merely a boy – naked and lost. He lowered to his knees and checked the latter for injuries.

“Are you lost?” Daiden heard the old man ask. “Are your parents nearby?”

“I have no parents…” said Takshaka, in a lie. He chose to break from his path of the sword, for the sake of mercy and consideration. He chose to not turn away from the old man. “Please don’t send me away!”

The tailor nodded and welcomed him home.

Daiden separated from Takshaka’s story in that moment. He shielded his eyes from the light and rested them in the darkness that followed. With a groan, he rose from his bed and shook his head. He noticed his Mioveroldian Page emerge without command, burning with information. He took a moment this time, massaging his head a little.

[Careful. You may lose your self-awareness if immersed for too long within the story of another.]

“A warning?” thought Daiden, curiously. “I didn’t expect something like this.”

[You’ve peeked into a piece purged from history. The chapter ends with a message to Takshaka’s Descendant. Would you like to read this message?]

Daiden nodded.

[Ah, my Descendant. I never thought I’d see a world beyond my lifetime, and yet – here you are, my blood and legacy. There is much to learn, and I must be careful to not unburden too much. For now, live with the way of the sword. I have left my secrets with you; I’ve simplified them so you could understand it better. The art of Takshakan Swordsmanship, it’s a beautiful dance, but also so much more. Learning to tailor from my father, I could not have pioneered a path without it. Never mock the needle.]

“Huh?” blurted Daiden. He watched a small, aeter bubble emerge from the open chapter. It merged with his Mioveroldian Knowledge Fragment, flooding his mind with a burst of information. Daiden felt a growing warmth around his neck, around his tattoo. He clawed at it. But the pain receded just as suddenly. All that remained was an update to his information.

[You have learned Takshakan Tailoring (Normal).]

[As Takshaka’s Descendant, it is now your duty to uncover the hidden connection between tailoring and swordsmanship. A breakthrough is needed to advance your class.]

***

[[

Currency: 7,520 Bloodstones

Deity: Ehedus

Citizenship: Godvildian

Rank: Trainee Soldier

Blessed Title: Usurper of the Monarch

Race: (Sealed)

Blacksmith Bond: Zane Morgul (Vulcan) | Monthly Fee: 200 Bloodstones

--

Class: Takshaka’s Descendant (Normal)

You have inherited the will and story of a mythical being. But you are insignificant without accomplishments. Build your accomplishments and grow into a myth. Ehedus will reward you based on the epic you write.

You are mildly resistant to abnormalities. You are slowly becoming one with the sword.

--

Specialization: Takshakan Swordsmanship (Sword Aeter)

Jade Serpent’s Breath. Verses of Takshakan Swordsmanship (1/7).

Class Items: Book of Dancers (Sealed). Origin of Takshaka (Sealed).

Granted Skills: Ehedus’ Embrace. Mioveroldian Constitution. Aeter Understanding and Implementation. Mioveroldian Knowledge (Fragment). Aeter Persistence (Rare). Takshakan Tailoring (Normal).

]]