Sam burst out of the cellar, with Sally right behind him desperately calling after her sister. They both skidded to a stop and gaped at what they saw.

Araxes, and there was no question it was Araxes under that old cloak, was flat on his back on the alley floor. His right hand was flat against Persephone’s gemstone. The core was stock-still, as though anchored to the air itself. The gemstone glowed bright enough to cast everything in sharp relief.

And Araxes was glowing as well.

“Oh hell,” Sam cursed, “is that what I think it is?”

“Hey! You boney fuck! Get away from my sister!” Sally shot forward, red gemstone glaring fiercely. She slowed, though, as she neared the supine lich, and pulled up completely when she got within a few paces of her sister.

“Holy shit.”

“They’re bonding, aren’t they,” Sam said, jogging up. His menu was already open and he was slapping the Essence Vision ability before the question was all the way out. He closed his eyes and waited for the ability to settle over him, then slowly brought them open again.

“Um. Yeah, I think so.”

Sam nodded slowly, careful to not move his head too fast. One thing with the new Essence Vision, he now could see how… Well… everything worked. Streams of information scrolled across his vision from everything in the immediate vicinity. Complex mana equations, simple stat trees, interweaving logic statements for which he had no name and no idea how to interpret… It was like diving headfirst into the deepest sea of numbers and statements ever created.

And if he moved too fast, if he tried to focus on too much at once, he would suffer overload and probably get knocked out. Again. It’d happened the first time he’d used it, and he wasn’t anxious to repeat the process.

So he focused on one thing, and one thing only. The lich’s hand on Persephone’s gemstone. And as he focused, an information tidal-wave washed over him. Hastily he backed out, before the equations could overcome him. Too deep. Too fast. He had to go slower. Gentler. Sift the information, don’t try to drink it all at once.

“We gotta do something! He’s hurting her!” Sally edged forward, then back, clearly unsure what to do.

Sam forced himself not to look at her. He didn’t need the information. “I don’t think he is,” he said as calmly as he could manage. Gods, doing this out here in the world rather than a nice safe cellar was like trying to perform surgery in the middle of a gnomish steam concert. “Gimme a second…”

He dug through the info boxes and diagrams as carefully as he could until he found several active circuits. The bonding procedures. There were even tooltips to explain what he was seeing. Very nice of the creators. Or maybe it was the Essence Vision ability itself interpreting and advising.

Damn. If there was an Anomaly taking place right now, his essence vision wasn’t seeing it. If he’d been in the middle of it, maybe, or if he’d been here when the lich and the core had begun the bond… But now there was nothing. Just a steady flow of information that probably explained how Araxes and Persphone were creating a Guardian bond between themselves.

Maybe if he could get closer… He took a few steps forward, concentrating. Some of those numbers scrolling past must mean something, but nothing like what he was trying to figure out—

And then, without any flash of fanfare whatsoever, Araxes disappeared.

And Persephone's light dimmed, and try as Sally might, the core refused to respond to any outside stimulus.

“Sam, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to fucking murder you now.”

* * *

Araxes woke.

Which was rather novel in and of itself. In fact, it was technically an impossibility, given that undead were physically incapable of sleep.

And it was sleep. He may not have encountered the sensation for over 400 years, but that was also the benefit of undeath. Near-perfect recall—though the filing system was dreadful and occasionally took some time to cough up the correct file. Admittedly, it did have 400 years of assorted memories to dredge through, but could it not at least be a touch more efficient?

“What the devil am I on about?” Araxes asked the world in general. Then he sat up, cricked his neck—liches were not immune to kinks in the neck after sleeping, it seemed—and looked around.

Tolliver had described the White Room to him more than once; a featureless expanse of nothing but white. And then, mere days before, he had been taken to a Red Room, which was much the same as the White Room save for the eventual fact of it trying to kill him.

In keeping with the theme, Araxes decided to call this the Blue Room.

“Going through all the primary colors, are we?” He struggled to his feet, peering around. “Personally I can hardly wait to discover there is a Taupe Room or a Burnt Umber Room. Hello? Is anyone there?”

No answer.

“What the devil is all this, then?” he asked, raising his eyeflames skywards.

Blue is the color of knowledge. This room was designed eons ago to impart understanding to the Guardian upon his bonding with The Last Bastion.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, as if it was both inside his head, outside the head, far off, and near.

It was actually quite the intriguing effect. If he ever regained his kingdom, Araxes resolved to find out how to do it before his next speech.

“Well, thank you for that tidbit.” Araxes glanced around. “I don’t suppose there’s a door to get me the deuce out of here?”

There was no answer. He blinked and glanced skyward again. “Cat got your tongue?”

There is no cat.

The voice came right from behind Araxes, and was so clearly there that he jerked in surprise and spun around. There, her porcelain-white feet not quite touching the floor, floated a young human girl in a blue dress with blue hair and shining blue eyes.

“Oh for the love of little green onions.” The lich pinched his nasal ridge with two bony fingers. “You’re not seriously doing the ‘creepy little girl avatar’ thing in here, are you?”

I am a projection of the conglomeration of memories, data, and fears that my physical self holds. In times past, the child-avatar has been preferred by my guardians. They find her soothing.

“I find it nauseating,” Araxes said flatly. “And maudlin. Can you change to something more appropriate? A wizened old crone in a robe, perhaps with a wart or two for good measure?”

I do not wish to be a crone. I like the child-avatar. The girl crossed her arms and stuck her lower lip out defiantly.

Araxes sighed. Why was he always stuck with petulant children in one form or another? First Tolliver, then Rashun, now this. Was he on a list somewhere?

“So, may I assume that you are the third core—“

You can call me Sephy.

“I would sooner dive headfirst into a consecrated pond.”

You’re mean. Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen you.

“Ah,” the lich stabbed a finger at the girl. “That. Let us discuss that. You have ‘chosen’ me. May I assume that means that I have become yet another Guardian, in the same vein as Tolliver?”

I don’t know Tolliver. Was he the mean man who tried to touch me in the cellar? I don’t like him. He hurt me.

“It occurs to me,” Araxes said thoughtfully, “that out of context, this could be a very, very different kind of conversation. It also occurs to me that Tolliver will be absolutely green when I relate this to him. Verbatim.” The thought brought a flicker of icy joy to his long dead heart.

You are my guardian. Yes. I chose you because you don’t hurt.

“I don’t suppose you could unpack that for me?”

I… It is hard to explain. I think that everyone, everything, everywhere, is somehow connected to the Essence. My sisters interact with these connections on a very limited basis. I do not. I am the part of us that governs knowledge and experience and emotion. I feel everything. Physical contact is worst.

“Ah,” Araxes clacked his fingers in a snap. “But I, having been severed from the essence by your elder sister—“

We are the same age.

“Yes, but she does not present nor sound like a ten year-old child with severe petulance issues.”

The child-avatar frowned and stuck her lower lip out.

Hmph.

“Thank you for making my point. As I was speculating; Because I no longer have my connection to the essence of the world, my presence does not harm you, I presume.”

That is correct.

“Capital. So, I am a Guardian now, am I?” The lich clapped his hands together and turned in place, eyeing the vast blue expanse. “How does that work, exactly? I presume I shall have access to at least some of the powers enjoyed by Tolliver? The ability to construct rooms, perhaps? I could use a decently-equipped laboratory.”

My sisters govern both offense and defense. Their guardian powers are not replicated here.

“Ah.” Araxes turned back and eyed the girl. “So what does your guardian get?”

Access to the accumulated knowledge of countless centuries, as stored within this shell.

That made Araxes sit up and take notice. “All of it?”

Yes.

“Well now, this I can work with.” The lich grinned wide and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what wonders you might have in store for me then. Er… Do you have a filing system, or other method of retrieving the information?”

Yes.

“Excellent! Where is it?”

You are standing within it.

As soon as she spoke, there came the sound of a softly-blowing wind, and all around Araxes, as far as the eye could see, bookcases of uniform size and shape rose up from the floor of the Blue Room.

Please select the subject you wish to know about from the appropriate shelf.

“Yes,” Araxes sighed. “Because nothing is ever easy, is it?”

Which, of course, was when his chat system lit off.

Sam: Araxes, can you hear me?