Two hours later. The sun would set in another four, roughly.

It was estimated that the adventurer party would find its way to the nearest major city by the end of tomorrow. That made every minute that the Valley Rangers saved by packing up quickly an important advantage.

Cade had already gotten to her questioning of Zenith. She asked many things. Itval wasn't entirely sure how many of them, exactly, were relevant, but Cade seemed to be asking about its history ("service life", as the golem-creature called it) and the things it had done or borne witness to.

Most of the answers were... satisfactory. Not because of some kind of foul play on Zenith's part, but because it simply didn't have the information to answer them in-depth. It stated that the majority of its service life, which was measured in some quantity Cade couldn't get it to translate into days or years, was not kept within its own head, and what was tended to be "compressed" and would take time to "decompress". What, exactly, those terms meant in relation to memories was a question Zenith said it couldn't describe well enough for them to understand.

They persisted.

"The way your structures fold into themselves, taking less space." it tried. "It is like that. But with thoughts in your head. There is a limit to the amount of information I can store. Unlike most biologicals - that is, life that is like you rather than me - I have far more control over my mindspace."

"And there's a limit to how "compressed" you can make something, isn't there?" asked Itval.

"It depends. More compression past a certain point means information is lost from the... memory."

"What do you need from us for you to tell us your age in some way we can understand?" pleaded Cade.

"It is not your fault." it half-apologized. "There are parts of myself I cannot verify the damage of. I am making progress to solve that issue, slowly."

"I don't understand, though. You said you knew the length of your life, despite your missing thoughts. But you can't turn it into days? Or years? And you're somehow... supposed to be able to do that?"

"You have compared me heavily to a golem or 'artifice construct' prior." it started. "With limited information, I have reason to believe this is as accurate as your definition will ever get."

"So?"

"It means I am made of parts. Some parts are more fragile than others, but each has a purpose. I cannot verify if the part that helps me track the passage of time is functioning as intended."

"But if you can track the passage of time, isn't it working?"

"It is supposed to track time based on intervals." They all drifted slightly to the side, avoiding one of the stone formations as they quickly jogged with the rest to their direct west. "Everything else functions with help from that component. If the intervals measured is inaccurate, it means I am not functioning as I should."

"So you're a malfunctioning construct?" added Itval, more as a statement than a question.

"No. Malfunctioning is a different situation compared to misfunction, as far as my kind are concerned."

They'd go on to talk about a lot of things. What, exactly, Zenith's "kind" were, where it may be from, when it may be from... a lot of things Zenith said it couldn't answer. Not enough information. The kind of information it either couldn't trust itself with or the Valley Rangers couldn't provide. Or both.

It was, as far as Itval was concerned, extremely unproductive. It seemed to ease Cade a little to at least have her myriad of questions acknowledged, however, and she soon left. But Itval had more to ask, and it wasn't about trust for her.

"You say that we can't understand what you are." she started. "But have you really tried explaining it? From the top down, until it works.

"Constructed artificial intelligence." it started. Seemed Zenith wouldn't waste time on this... and that had her slightly worried for how long this would take. A form of regret immediately came to her mind.

But of course, she didn't understand the concept as it was described at apparently the highest level. After a pause, Zenith tried again.

"Created mind." it threw out. She felt like she was starting to get a better understanding, but that something hadn't clicked.

"Fake life." That one felt obvious, past the point of that something clicking. Zenith was rushing it, trying to skip ahead.

"Not that basic."

"Forged life." it said. That one clicked.

"I think... that's as good as you'll get." she said before really focusing. "Forged life... something made you, to make life. Not mimic it, not to complete tasks, but to make life." she continued.

"Not inaccurate." it responded in its sometimes depressingly flat tone.

"You're alive. Just... not like us." she tried again. "Because... someone made you. Not to make life... but because the reason it really needed you meant you had to be alive."

"That is likely as close as you will understand." it stated. "The concept of creating actual life past the purpose of simply creating life does not seem to be prevalent among your kind. It was regular in my previous environment."

"People made life... just to make it do other things?" she said. "Your kind, were they servants?"

"Assuming our definitions match, then it is a close definition. However, my kind was permitted to choose their functions. Mostly." it paused. "I, specifically, was not. There are others like me, who were forced into certain roles. It is because we were made for these roles specifically."

"How does that make you feel?" she asked after a long pause. "To be forced to do something?"

"1. Feelings are not the same for my kind as they are for yours. 2. Are you not forced to do things, sometimes? It is not always negative." it shot back quickly. "Hypothetically, if Morval were in a hyper-stressed state, and the other four among you decided it was best for you to try and help him."

"I... guess that's true." she conceded.

"Sublety aside, you should go to him." the construct said, before moving to another point in the crowd. Whatever its purpose was, Itval wasn't sure. But, to be entirely honest... she'd never trusted nor distrusted Zenith before. Despite all the strength that seemed to be at its fingertips, it was reluctant to use it - that much was evident.

It had said that it was made for a specific role. Specific enough to warrant creation of itself. That role was probably not combat. Given its ability to seemingly see and hear everything and still understand it all... maybe that was just a quirk of its nature, however. Maybe even the borderline shapeshifting was, too.

Whatever its specific role was, if it was here... maybe it was brought here by someone powerful, because they needed something to fill that purpose.

No. It was definitely brought here by someone powerful. And when that person came, they wouldn't be here to ask nicely, in all likelihood.

Zenith was the center of unfortunate circumstances. The others seemed to keep forgetting how often that it, itself, was caught up in these circumstances with them.

She switched from jog to sprint, to catch up with Morval at the lead.

Once Cade was sufficiently isolated from the rest, she spoke quiet enough for only one - well, two - people to hear.

"Mara." came the whisper. It was going to be rushed, it was going to be poorer than she would hope... but she needed to convince her. "Come to me. Now."

Cade still felt a little like a part of her soul had been ripped out. She'd spared Delil from execution but not from the near-ostracization that surrounded such a major event.

The Seeks were a group going back for thousands of generations. Supposedly. The writings and tomes of each Seeks only began around sixty generations ago. By then, unfortunately, it seemed their true purpose among the nomadic Guilds was obscured, simply by growing out of it. Their only real goal nowadays seemed to be to master the usage of raw mana to create new Spells, useful ones that the System would recognize.

Sometimes it was a variant of one that already existed, sometimes it was replicated from a naturally magical creature, sometimes it was entirely original, stretching the boundaries of magic and opening the door to entirely new classifications of magic. Whenever one was made, the Seeks Quest "Origin of Information" would then ask that they spread knowledge of it freely.

With the Crusade chasing them, if they didn't get rid of the lodestones and somehow hide their tracks to the extent that even the most skill hunters, who used traces of magic for witch hunting, wouldn't be able to follow them. For now, they were carrying the lodestones with them. It might keep the idea that they were either unaware or somehow innocent in the minds of their pursuers, which would lower their guard and their worry. In short, they'd likely pursue them with less haste than if they'd thrown away the lodestones.

After that minute of thinking alone, Mara came up behind Cade, as revealed as she was willing to be. "What is it?"

Cade didn't respond for a while. She acknowledged Mara by looking at her, but returned her vision ahead and kept running. Mara understood this as her thinking, as she had been taught mostly by Cade and Itval. So she waited.

"How much have you learned about mana manipulation since I last taught you?" Cade started. "How much have you practiced?"

"I haven't learned much... only a bit of experimentation with how I could vary my Spells, I guess." she responded. "I've been using all of my stealth Spells almost constantly. It's gotten easier, especially since I don't need to keep Hidden Skills active constantly."

"Hmm." Cade hummed shortly. "I think... if not Delil..."

"What?" she said, stumbling a little before catching up. "Please don't. Please, please don't." Stumbling over her own words too much to focus, she tripped on a rock and landed head-first into the ground. At the speeds they were jogging at, it would've been fatal for normal humans. But she quickly got up and sprinted to catch up, watching her footing much more carefully.

"I'm - I can't be the next Seeks! You know that, right?" she whispered. A few were already staring at the girl who'd tripped on a jog. Their attention would waver soon, but it was already annoying her. "I might know something about wielding mana but - I'm definitely no mage. Delil's younger brother would be a better Seeks!"

"Let me tell you a secret, Mara. And I know you're good at keeping them, so tell nobody else." Cade said to cut her off. Mara listened intently.

"The Seeks - each of us exist across with one in each nomadic Guild. Some villages have a Seeks as well, but that's rarer. But, among all of us..." she paused. "None of us remember what the original goal of the Seeks was. Only that we had one, and it is now lost."

Mara didn't really know what to think of that.

"For as long as written records go back, we've simply been among the nomadic Guilds, one for each. But over sixty generations ago, nearing two thousand years, we still didn't remember our original purpose. Only that we must persist."

"Why are you telling me this? I already said - I don't want you to teach me!" Cade looked at Mara disapprovingly, not breaking stride, until she corrected herself. "I mean - I don't want you to waste your time and effort on me! Especially right now!"

"You know what it is like to have your Class change, right?" Cade asked, ignoring the correction.

"Y-Yes..."

"There are more secrets that Seeks keep hidden from most, if not all, of the Guilds they wander with. Sometimes it makes us feel... less like part of the community, and more like an observer, trying to find something new from their adventures." Cade explained. "Sometimes, I, and the other Seeks have wondered if we would be more fitting as members of adventurer parties. But few would have us, in the experiences of those who tried."

"This all sounds like stuff an apprentice would learn. Please, stop. Even Delil's father would be a better choice! And he's older than you!"

"Age Comes for All. A Quest that every master will find themselves with, one day. Take an apprentice under your wing, and make sure they don't just ride on your legacy - they pave the way for it, and in turn, make it their own, too."

"I'm not that apprentice! I... I'm not ready for the attention of a community like ours, Cade. I'm..." Mara paused.

"Still shy. Of course you are." Cade completed for her. "But I taught you before I taught Delil. I wonder, perhaps, if that's why Delil failed."

"What? No, of course not - you only taught me about mana manipulation and certain Spells. Itval wanted you to - to help with my Abilities. I'm not a Seeks, Cade!" she said, exasperated. Now she'd exhausted possibly all of her excuses. It worried her.

"I have a feeling... about what our original goal may have been, Mara."

"Don't tell me about it. Please."

"Do you want to hear it? My theory?"

"No! It isn't my place to know your secrets!"

"To spread knowledge... and test the limits of the System. I don't think we've ever really reached them, but sometimes we encountered others who had. In the journals of my predecessors, there are individuals who always stood out from the rest."

"Please don't..." Mara was nearly crying. Her vision fogged. Being pushed into the spotlight was something she always feared.

She wasn't even sure if she remembered why. There were a million different dreams. A stage play, massacred. A trading caravan, raided. A farming village, razed by a dragon.

"These Seeks always say something. That their Class changed after finding these people, and knowing how they had hit the limits of the System." Cade sighed. "These Seeks became something else. Normally mages. Scribes. Rangers, on occasion. Rarest, but still common enough to note were the Archmages. But they were no longer Seeks."

"Wait... what?" Mara looked at Cade, who was looking ahead, utterly unreadable. "No, no, nevermind - don't tell me, damn it!"

"The last of their line. Their legacy of Seeks ended when they discovered the limit of the System. But, I think, most importantly... is one specific instance. Do you want to know what limit was found?" she asked rhetorically, continuing before Mara even responded. "An Artificer who tried to breathe life into their construct... and succeeded."

Mara was too focused on moving by now to really focus on anything else. She'd activated the Skills that kept her hidden, a trained instinct, but Cade knew she was still there. She could still hear.

"His dying daughter. He asked the help of a mage of the Soul, to take hers and place it in the construct. The mage couldn't. No matter how hard they tried, the mage failed, again and again... but offered to come back every time, when the Artificer made improvements and revisions. Perfected his craft. Until one day, when he tried turning it on... it moved of its own accord. And then vanished." She paused. Mara might not be responding, or maybe she was. But she'd understand the importance of this... it was hard to miss, now that Cade focused on it harder.

"The Artificer gained a new Ability. But not one you would want. It's the rarest of all known. Every individual who has reached the limit of the System has found themselves with it, and unable to get rid of it. Peak of Peaks, they always called it, in every language."

"It prevented them from advancing their abilities. Stopped them from proceeding past the System." she elaborated. "They had reached the limit. And for this Artificer, that limit was making a golem construct that could be controlled by a Soul. Because every time he did... a foreign Soul filled it. Was grown by the golem, to complete itself. And they always vanished, before the Soul mage could really tell him what was happening in greater detail."

"One Seeks observed this process, too. The Artificer, long broken by the loss of his daughter, decided he would never take an apprentice. He felt it would be a curse to leave them with the chance of earning this Ability. He made one last golem, for the Seeks to observe." She looked up slightly, at the soon setting sun. "And observe she did. What she saw, for the briefest moment as the Soul formed, was the mindspace of a child hidden in all the different magics of birth. It was beautiful. And then something came from the sky, a magic she had never seen before, and the construct vanished... but the magic was still there, for a brief moment. It killed the Soul."

"No golem can have a Soul. I can't see one in Zenith... but it says it doesn't have access to the System. We all know that the System governs our magic, our Spells, and to a certain extent our Souls. But the only thing I see in Zenith is something foreign. Something similar to that magic that stole the golem, according to the Seeks' description." She had to tie it back quickly, lest she lose focus and start telling stories just wildly. She wanted to lure Mara in. She needed her, more than the younger girl understood.

"I think that magic is there for one of two reasons. Before today, when I re-read that tome, I thought it was simply something normal for it. But now, I think it is either a threat on its own life, or something that lingers... because it can't touch Zenith's soul. It can't kill it, like it could the golems."

"If Zenith truly doesn't belong to the System, then this is another limit, Mara. And that means I will soon become something different. My Class will change. I will no longer be a Seeks, and nor will you. But my instincts tell me... I still have to train you. Because..." she grasped for words.

"Because you will become something that this world has never seen before. Something new, born not to find the limits but to test them directly. I... don't know how to explain it." she grasped harder. "It needs to be you, Mara. You're the best of us, in your own way, and it's our fault."

Cade looked back down, focusing on the ground as she walked, trying not to think too hard. "Because we made you the way you were. Your life has always been defined by us... by the ones around you making all the decisions. Whatever you become, will be yours, and yours alone."

"Haim Mels." Zenith said, as its construct caught the attention of Delil's father.

"Yes, ah, Zenith?" he responded, moving back to focus on his still-distressed daughter.

"I request your help with something. It is minor."

"...Why me? What can I do to help you?" he asked incredulously.

"Whenever camp is next made for rest, I request that you create a drawing of a spell you commonly use, as accurate and descriptive as possible." If it could confirm its working theory, Zenith would have the answer to a few of its questions.