I was taken aback by Klivieros apparent confusion over my knowledge of the written language upon the obelisk, though I must admit I couldn't read the text without the aid of a translation sheet; cuneiform is a highly complex form of literature to read in any of its iterations.

My eyes narrowed while I looked back to the obelisk; part of me was unsure if I had correctly identified the glowing red engravings. Upon a closer look, it appeared to be either Babylonian or Sumerian cuneiform due to how It was written. However, without translation assistance, I would be unable to translate the literature at this time.

"Odd, your masters call it cuneiform as well?" I looked back to Kliviero and asked her. I readied my notebook in preparation for her answer and jotted down my question as quickly as I could; I could worry about the neatness of my handwriting later.

"They've always called it cuneiform for as long as I can remember; I don't remember it being called anything other than that." She explained. While she spoke, her right forearm plates folded open, revealing something inside her arm, I couldn't quite see what it was, but whatever it was, Kliviero was greatly interested in it; her left hand fiddled around during our conversation.

I stopped jotting down her explanation for a moment and thought about what precisely this could mean. If this was all real, a theory supported by the Quire approaching me during the night, then there is a strong possibility that something, or someone, entered this place long before I did and brought cuneiform with them.

The possibility that somebody brought the scripture here would be strange enough considering the situation at hand, but the more I thought about this, the stranger this place became. Did this mean that people like myself have been showing up here for thousands of years before now?

Cuneiform as written literature died out at least three thousand years ago, so this place, by extension, must be at least three to four thousand years old at a minimum, and that's assuming that the scripture was adopted as soon as it arrived, something improbable but not impossible.

I resolved to jot down my thoughts on the matter in my notebook, writing down her apparent surprise with my people knowing what the script was and how she thought it came from this place and circled it once I finished writing.

"Now that's very interesting," I muttered once I had finished writing down my thoughts and her answer, looking away from the notebook to see her looking at my writing, presumably equally confused as I was. "Tell me; you mentioned earlier that the figure I saw might have been a Quire, are these statues Quires as well or are they something else?" I asked while I turned to face one of the statues and noted down my new question.

"I'm not entirely sure, but considering the design, they might be archivist sculptures?" Kliviero answered while she continued to fiddle with the interior of her right arm; she let out a sharp yelp and pulled something out. It looked like a needle or a thorn of something made from an unusual aquamarine coloured material. "Got it." She growled while the plates of her arm folded back in place.

"What's that?" I asked while turning my head to get a better look; the object looked like a stinger or a thorn from a vicious plant.

"Felt my arm locking up while I moved it a bit too much, not surprising at all considering I had a thorn wedged in my muscle fibres." She threw the thorn over my shoulder, launching it a couple of meters behind me. "Must have picked that up a few nights ago when I darted away from the Zhivaq."

"Strange, I brushed up against that same plant that you did, and I didn't get any thorns." I thought about that night and how the last few minutes went, remembering how scared she was when those things came after us and how panicked she was getting. The poor thing was probably so frightened she didn't realize when that thorn punctured her arm.

"It's okay; it happens from time to time, especially when you're my size." She explained while running her hand over her forearm, checking it over for any further damage caused by the thorn. "Thankfully, it looks like it slipped past the plates; at least it didn't do any real damage to me." She shook her arm and listened closely for any telltale signs of debris or loose material still inside. "Anyways, what was your question again?"

"Do you mind elaborating on the sculptures?" I repeated my question while reopening the notebook and resuming a slow walk down the path; no harm in wanding in the rough direction of our destination while taking notes. "You said something about them being archivists before you removed that thorn."

"Oh, right, the archivists." She clapped her hands together and begun to explain. "They're quite a complicated bunch of individuals which I didn't have to work with very often, but what I do remember is that they are a very isolationist group. They very rarely leave Amethyite territory or holdings other than if they have no other choice or if they are being reassigned."

"I see." I nodded while jotting down summaries of what she said; I didn't want kliviero to think that I was not engaged with the conversation.

"They are the lowest-ranking members of the order who can access the Protasi wellsprings safely and act independently. They wear these ornate robes and masks that are covered with engravings and gemstones to focus and lens the Protasi into something they can control." She pointed up at the last sculpture we were going to walk past before entering the pergola passageway.

"See their armour? The gauntlets and chest plates they wear are smothered both inside and out in painstakingly carved patterns and webs of written incantations and wards. Each suit of armour is less a piece of protective gear and more a wearable gallery of engraved art." Kliviero explained while we walked past the statue, prompting me to jot down line upon line of poorly written notes. However, once she mentioned the engraving, a thought came to mind, what exactly was its point?

"So, just to clarify, are the engravings to allow the individual the ability to control the Protasi or is it to protect the wearer from the Protasi?" I interject; the entire subject of Protasi energy, whatever the hell it was, was a source of great confusion for me.

"It's a bit of both." Kliviero elaborated. "The Protasi is a very fickle thing to use; it takes a long time for someone to master it. Until that mastery is achieved, wards and enchanted gemstones are used to augment their command of it until they don't need the support anymore.

"This place just keeps getting weirder." I mockingly respond. "One minute I'm being attacked by a giant statue looking thing, the next I'm running away from insect men who were incandescent with rage, now I'm finding out that magic is a thing..."

"I wouldn't call it magic," Kliviero spoke over me before I could finish my train of thought. "The Protasi has a certain degree of science to it; those who wield it don't just go to a school or a facility where they get taught how to use it." She continued while gesturing back to the sculpture, which was now behind us. "The archivists, for instance, spend a very, very long time studying it from ancient tomes and scrolls dating back to a time before I was forged. Probably before those who made me came into existence." She spoke cryptically, much to my chagrin and the displeasure of my attempts to write down what she meant while entering the covered pergola passageway. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adapt to the shade in the passage, but it was thankfully still bright enough to continue writing.

I hurriedly jotted down rough notes from her explanation of how "magic" works in this strange place, though to this day, I am still unsure about how precisely it works. From what I could piece together, it appears that the magic in this world was grounded, to at least a certain degree, in either scientific or metaphysical rules which were unique to this world. For instance, it was less about conjuring things from thin air and more about changing the parameters of items on the fly, such as reverting plant matter into mulch. I found it ironic that a world free from the laws of physics, which supported the growth of levitating landmasses and trees which sailed them, had established physical rules regarding magic; it just didn't feel right.

"You're writing a lot of things down," Kliviero observed my scrawlings upon the paper; her voice gave way a degree of caution. "Keep writing at that rate, and the Amethyites might take an interest in you." She let out a concerned chuckle. "As if they weren't already, that is..."

"Well, let's just say that I'm finding this place exceptionally intriguing to exist in," I responded, finishing off my notes and stowing the notebook and my pen away in my coat. "And, with members of this place showing up in the world I'm from, as you call it, perhaps I would like to spend some time figuring out what they intend to do."

"Good luck with that." Kliviero laughed dismissively while she sat on my shoulder. "I can say from experience that you're not going to have a good time with this, a good mental fortitude exercise? Perhaps, but actual answers? Probably not."

I shook my head and tutted; I understood where Kiviero was coming from, but I couldn't not at the very least take a crack at understanding these things, at the very least, to a small degree of certainty. I did, however, find it reassuring that the Amethyite order, as she called it, was far more interested in researching and studying than going around hunting me down; perhaps to them, my presence here was entirely unknown. Maybe the mere notion of one of my kind being able to enter their world was incomprehensible to them. I was hoping that this belief would persist for a while longer, at least; every day they didn't know I was here was another day of preparation I could afford.

Some time passed idly by while we continued to walk along the covered garden passageway; I was silently mulling over what context Kliviero had given me throughout the walk so far. While it would be unwise for me to jump to any conclusions, it was apparent at this point that I was functionally alone in this world against the hostile civilizations around me. Between these Amethyite order people and the strange insect looking people in the forest, there was nothing other than Kliviero who could be considered friendly. However, I often wondered if Kliviero was entertaining me rather than being nice.

"So, other than the bug-men and the wizard looking fellows, does anyone else live in this place?" I asked while reaching for my notebook again, though I changed my mind before retrieving it. "Just seems like the kind of place where you'd find lots of smaller clusters of peoples living here is all." In the distance, I could make out the vague shapes of light-rays coming from the end of the passageway.

"There are others that live out in The Abyss. However, they are far from this place." Kliviero rolled her eyes slowly while she spoke, once more disappointed by my questioning, it would seem. "The 'bug-men', as you like to call them, are a highly decentralized tribal people who wander The Abyss freely in their dirigibles from time to time. To call them an organized civilization would be a vast overestimation of their capabilities."

"Bit harsh, don't you think?" I chuckle under my breath at Klivieros rather hostile description of Zhivaq society. "I mean, they aren't like you or the Amethyites, that's not open for discussion, but they are a society at the end of the day."

"Aye, an excessively hostile society." She smirked throughout my attempt to reign in her dismissal. "They used to be something far greater than they are today, or so I've been told, but when their society fell, they didn't try to claw at the edge and pull themselves back up; rather, they decided to throw themselves deeper and become consumed by their rage." She elaborated cryptically, yet more mysteries for me to uncover in time, it would seem. By the time she had finished saying a lot but telling me very little at the same time, we had finally reached the end of the passageway and returned to the chunk of garden space I climbed into so many nights ago.

Looking around this segment of garden space, it looked like nothing had changed at a glance. The bushes, neon grass, blustering prehensile trees and monochromatic bees were still here, existing upon this pocket of orderly land. The air was filled with the smell of pollen, and there was a slight sweetness to the atmosphere. Around my ankles, I noticed that strange fog once again rolling around the grassy carpet which surrounded me, making me wonder if the grass was somehow connected to the mysterious fog.

"Here we are." I proclaim upon my exit from the passageway. "I don't think anything has changed..." A short sigh of relief left my lips, betraying my nervousness that the ever-changing Abyss might have clawed a familiar location like this from me, a decision which it had not taken, it would seem. At the same time, I stood just outside the end of the passageway, taking in the vibrancy of it all.

"So this is where you came into this world?" Kliviero spoke while she looked around, seeming to be in awe of the garden. "I knew the Amethyites looked after their territory, but I wasn't expecting it to look so... Pristine." She muttered while hopping off my shoulder with a loud clicking flutter of wings. She drifted over to a small cluster of bushes and observed the geometric patterns of the leaves up close. "And to think tiny little things like you are responsible for all of this." She cooed while beckoning one of the bees to come closer. One of the larger bees approached her and landed upon the bush she was inspecting. It sat there and clacked its mandibles together while maintaining eye contact with her, or what I assumed was eye contact, considering the compound nature of its eyes.

"What's it saying?" I asked her as I carefully approached it, ensuring that I didn't disturb this unusual connection Kliviero had with the mystical fauna, assuming one could call these unnatural things fauna.

"Nothing we didn't already know..." She sighed and shooed the bee away with a gentle gesture of her hand. "Rather unfortunate, I was hoping that the colony here knew more, but they seem just as clueless as us."

"Every time I think I understand, it just gets weirder and weirder..." I murmur impatiently; my attempts to grasp what one could consider being a rational understanding of this place were slipping further and further away with every passing moment once again. I thought I had gotten a grasp of the relationship between Kliviero and the bee's, only for that to be broken again by this suggestion that the individual hives had a comprehension of the world independent to one another.

"I don't think anybody here truly understands this place in its entirety; many of my kin and those that fashioned me from metal and ceramic only contemplate the world immediately around them, let alone what lies out there, waiting to be discovered." She peered over her shoulder. "Trying to understand everything is a lost cause in this place; even the most arrogant of my masters would stand by that, but that doesn't make attempting to understand any less valid or noble."

"On that note," I walk away from Kliviero while she sat by the bush observing the bees. "I wonder if you could shed some light on something." I slowly stroll over to the edge while looking around the garden space calmly; as weird as it might sound, I found the oddity of this unnaturally created "natural" world somewhat intriguing to observe, especially the bizarre forms of flora that had been brought into existence which surrounded us.

I reach the edge of the floating island and kneel by the edge to peer over it; much to my surprise, the floating island and the destroyed tower were still standing tall, well standing ruined, to be more precise. The strange building was also still there, thankfully, which made me wonder, perhaps Kliviero knows something about either of the structures?

"See this thing down here?" I wave her over to me to inspect the structures. "Any idea what it could be or who built it?" I ask, the sound of her wings clicking growing closer by the moment.

"Now, that is very interesting indeed." She ponders once she gets a look at the structures, after which she cautiously flutters along the ruined tower, working her way down to the strange building. "I have no idea what these things are, other than the ruined one, which is certainly a tower, but the architecture is ancient." Her voice was strained with confusion. "I mean, it looks so close to the kind of architecture which my masters utilize, but it's less, well, developed?"

"Less developed?" I asked.

"It looks quite similar to the construction techniques used by the Amethyites in recent times; the way the masonry is shaped and assembled looks exceptionally close, far too close to be a coincidence." She ran a hand along a smooth face of a chunk of ruined floating stonework. "I think the only difference I can see here is the timbers appeared to be larger, and the individual blocks of stone are a bit smaller, but it's otherwise identical." She continued. "The tooling of the stone, the faint chisel mark patterns on the stone, it feels so familiar yet so distant..."

"Now that's very interesting..." I reach into my pocket and retrieve my notebook, which I hurriedly jotted down this significant factoid. If Kliviero was not mistaken, then this lent further evidence to my theory that something or somebody came to this place from the real world a long, long time ago.

"I see you're taking notes again," Kliviero spoke up, prompting me to lower my notebook to look at her; I caught her quietly laughing to herself while I was taking notes. "I'd be astonished if the Amethyites aren't interested in your penchant for research; perhaps this is some big test they have arranged for you, for some reason..."

"I doubt that." I chuckle in response to Klivieros uncharacteristically optimistic reaction. "Perhaps if they found out about my research of this place and those that dwell within it, but I have a feeling that they wouldn't be overly happy about it." I finish taking notes and return the notebook to my coat pocket. "Shame about the other structure, though. I was hoping you could shed some light on it, or at the very least some brief explanation."

"Unfortunately, I can't." Kliviero fluttered back up to my side and perched atop my shoulder again. "Though I must say, the amount of metal used in the construction of that thing is very unusual; metal is scarce in this place, so to see so much of it being wasted on something like that is jarring for me."

"Unless it was not meant to contain me, but something else..." I hypothesized. "Me waking up in there being entirely coincidental, of course."

"Would make for some impressively bad luck to be thrown in something like that." Kliviero shuddered. "Getting out of something like that would be ridiculously challenging, especially if it was meant to be a prison of sorts."

"Well, I think we've seen enough here," I remark as I stand back up and walk back from the edge. "So, unless you want to check out that thing further, I think we're done here. Where to next?" I look over to Kliviero just as she was about to speak. However, our interaction was cut off abruptly by a loud electrical cracking sound bursting out from a corner of the garden wedge, which I hadn't explored thus far...

Looking towards the noise, I noticed that the stone slab pathway leads to another pergola passageway towards a new area. Just as my eyes made contact with the opening, I saw the unmistakable sign of something bright casting light across dark hedge walls deep in the passage.

A sickly emerald light danced at the back of the path for the briefest of moments before it vanished as soon as it appeared. Moments later, another flash of light shone across again and was quickly pursued by an equally loud crack, only this time a rough, blotchy shadow appeared to catch some of the light before it could reach the pergola. The shadow seemed humanoid in shape and implied that whatever was casting the shadow was doing something; it was hard to tell due to the fleeting nature of the flickering of light. Perhaps there was a fight?

"What the hell was that?" I ask while lowering my voice; it was impossible to tell what the figure was or how close it was to us, but the electronic crack's shadow and volume implied that it was a lot closer than I wanted it. This sense of concern escalated when immediately after I asked, the sound of somebody shouting called out from behind the hedgerows. However, the voice was not in a tongue I recognized.

"The masters, they're here..." Kliviero whispered, climbing around my shoulder to try and hide. All the while, the sound of boots moving at pace across stone grew louder and closer...