Argent opened his eyes slowly, the ceiling above fading in and out of focus for a moment as he adapted back to the lighting within his room. His mind raced with questions, the tingle of aether still lingering like butterflies throughout his nerves. Something had happened within him, something substantial, but he did not understand what.

His mind raced at a hundred paces, reviewing everything he ever read or imagined having read, every bit of gossip, every lecture, anything at all. There wasn’t an answer– partial or whole– that he could recall from any instance. Raising a hand upwards into his line of sight, he turned his palm over and stared at it as he curled and then flexed his fingers. [Enhance Reaction] had changed. It was obvious that it had. Yet for the life of him Argent could not say how or why.

There were logical answers of course, the first of which being usage. It was plausible within the context of the situation, but there was simply no precedent for Argent to base his assumptions on. He needed an expert, he needed.. A teacher.

“Instructor Heiran!”

The alchemist breathed excitedly to himself, the realization hitting him like a sack of bricks as he quickly stood up from his bed. Feeling a little slow for not putting it together immediately, Argent reminded himself that he was in fact at a school. Arguably the best school on the continent, for that matter. Referencing his student handbook for its enchanted scheduling page, he ran a finger frantically down the listing of lectures being offered that evening.

“Got it.”

Relief and satisfaction trembled in his voice as he uttered the words to himself, turning and breaking into a full sprint the moment he cleared the doorway of his living quarters. Brushing past other inhabitants of the dorms with rushed apologies, he ran for all he was worth towards the north campus lecture hall.

Luckily for Argent, it was not uncommon for sessions to run long at the academy– particularly when certain instructors were involved– and it seemed he had made it just in the nick of time. He entered the grand hall as apologetically as possible, making his way towards the back of the amphitheater style classroom so as not to distract from the lesson Instructor Heiran was bringing to a close.

“Now, accepting the obvious fact that arts are magic.. What then, is magic?”

He questioned the students present in the lecture hall, as he paced in front of his desk. Many of them looked perplexed by the borderline philosophical question, not deriving any relevant difference from it. As the magus had just said, in this world arts WERE magic, after all. Unphased, the man at the head of the class smiled, adjusted the long sleeves of his robes, and continued.

“Well, ‘magic’ is the manipulation of inherent force– in this reality’s case, Kai– which exists in the fabric of all matter. World Energies, as we call them. A very straightforward term. Interaction with these forces is bound by laws which have been in place since Aetheon, laws inherently present in each of the seven realities, with manipulation of these forces dictated by which aspects are synchronized with a caster.”

At his mental commands, the massive blackboard at the front of the room projected the image of a generic looking body onto it. A hollow silhouette with enough volume to place two spheres inside the area of its stomach and chest.

“Now, individuals in the seven realities are all born with at least a single aspect open to them, most often with two, and some may naturally possess more. Beyond this, further aspects may be opened over time through intense effort and struggle on the part of the caster– requiring them to meet complex conditions or use special relics.”

Argent watched as the image on the board went through a simple, yet disturbingly morbid animation of a shining crystal artifact being jammed into its skull. Once the figure recovered from its knees, there was a third sphere present inside the center of its torso as it began to hop happily up and down.

“Regardless of how, once one possesses an aspect, commanding the arts they have gained through it requires only two parameters; Affinity and cardinal language. That is to say, the original language shared amongst the Old Gods. If a caster is worthy to command an art which they possess, to activate its power they must simply issue their desires to the energy around them in a valid form of the cardinal language; Be it spoken, manifested, or signed… Now, in our current reality, the laws of worthiness have been muted quite deeply, negating them as a necessity for invoking an art.. However they can, and will, influence potency.”

Pausing abruptly, Instructor Heiran seemed to reconsider what he had said, before trying to parse the information yet again in a slightly altered manner.

“Or, perhaps it is more apt to say that the way in which worthiness itself is determined has been greatly skewed. Whilst the traditional meaning as applicable to ancient magicks still applies in our reality to the exercise of Rites– Arts, on the other hand, are earned by their unlocking. Regardless, that is an entirely different tangent for a different time.”

The magus then cleared his throat, halted his pacing behind the podium at the center of the room, and raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture of mock confusion as he altered his voice in a characterized cry.

“But instructor-- I see you thinking-- Instructor! If it’s all so simple, then why are so few people gifted in their arts? Isn’t everyone born with aspects? If worthiness is not strictly enforced– Or as we have determined, altered– and all that is required is commands… Why doesn’t everyone do it? Well.”

He leaned forward with a thud as his hands struck wood, gripping the edges of the podium as his glasses slid partially down his nose from the sudden movement.

“First! The cardinal language and its usage. Understanding it is the first hurdle. By an overwhelming margin, the most widespread use of cardinal language by the common populace is signed. Motions and gestures passed down by village mystics and elders over the years, often for so long that the people no longer understand the correlation between it and the cardinal language itself. Simply knowing that for some individuals ‘X’ motion will result in ‘Y’ effect, and passing this down through generations. Spoken words may be passed down in this same way, but a true understanding of the language itself tends to be very quickly lost over time. In no small part because, as aspects vary randomly from person to person, as well as cardinal arts, signs and words can instantly appear to ‘lose their effect’ if the offspring to which they are passed do not possess the proper art.”

Readjusting himself, the magus took a moment to breathe before continuing, so immersed in his explanation that he was running short on oxygen.

“So, spoken and signed, self explanatory.. But manifested? What does that mean? Manifestation is the psionic or spiritual representation of the cardinal language upon the weave of reality, using projected symbolism. Many of you can cast your arts this way– one method being to activate them directly from the aether plane– but for the uninitiated this can be an impossible task.”

Stepping back for a moment, Instructor Heiran tucked a hand under his chin and frowned, looking back over the entirety of the class before proceeding.

“This is the second factor of limitation; The aether plane itself. It is complex, shrouded in unknowns. Due to its nature as something purely abstract and instinctive, there is no true way to school someone in its use. Each individual must learn to access and navigate the space on their own, developing a unique understanding of their inner power, and refining the ways in which they view and interact with it.”

For a moment he glanced towards the blackboard, filling it with what could only be a visual representation of the aether plane itself; though the low murmurs amongst the class made it plain that it was not ‘in-line’ with what most of the students were expecting. Even Argent was slightly puzzled by its appearance, as it was different from his own.

“In this the Final Reality, ‘worthiness’ has effectively been superseded by ‘access’; By which I mean the act of entering the aether and filling the nodes associated with an art in order to gain its power. The problem here is that many never develop the sensory capabilities necessary to do so, because of the abstract existence of the plane itself. It cannot be taught or shared. It cannot be pressured into submission or forced to the surface. If one does not find their vision beyond the veil, then they are in essence cut from the world of magic… Which, does often come with its own consequences and results, but… That is yet another matter for another time.”

Reaching the end of his desired exposition, Instructor Heiran’s speech gradually decreased in volume and speed. As it lowered, it became far more the voice of a venerable professor and less that of an enthused fanatic, bringing a sense of order and calm to the classroom.

“These are two of a long list of factors leading into why many beings within the Ninth Reality, particularly those of lower socioeconomic standing or opportunity, never truly cultivate their aspects or gain any real mastery over them despite having full access to do so.”

Despite having come purely off the urge to ask his specific question, Argent found himself with notebook open, curiously transcribing notes from the lecture. During the lengthier parts the alchemist was barely able to keep up with the pace and density of the information, even with much of it being things he already knew.

He noted the matters regardless, writing them in Instructor Heiran’s words as best he could. It was a matter of knowing he knew, yet also refining the ways that he knew– Using different sources of the same information to solidify an understanding. It was just one of those things. The topic was also an area of specific interest to the Alchemist, as he had promised to teach Julie arts.

Neverminding the fact that he might never have the opportunity to be welcomed back to Thrylld, his experience there had made him more aware of the knowledge gap between adventurers and commoners, putting him on the lookout for ways to bridge said gap whenever he might encounter it again.

As the lecture tapered to its end and the other students gathered their belongings and filtered out of the hall, Argent shut his notes and affixed his journal’s clasp, tucking it under his armpit as he stood and made his way down to Instructor Heiran’s desk. The good natured magus had been patiently watching him, waiting for his approach.

“Something I can help you with, my boy? You seemed flustered when you first popped in.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve run up against something, and I was hoping to ask you about it.”

“Of course! By all means, Argent, pull up a chair. Tell me what has caught your curiosity.”

“Well, sir, I wanted to ask you about arts on the aether plane.”

“Mhm, mhm.”

The magus absently hummed in response, as though it were obvious.

“Have you ever heard of someone.. How to describe it– Re-acquiring an art?”

The two stared at each other, the magus blinking behind his spectacles.

“Come again?”

“Ah, well.. I know this sounds strange, but i’ve spent most of today brewing solutions.. And one of my arts, my uh.. My.. My unique art, it faded, and then allowed me to fill it with aether a second time.”

Like a bolt of lightning, Instructor Heiran shot up from his seat and moved to shut the lecture hall doors. Argent flinched in alarm, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as the magus slowly, very slowly turned to face him again; the glint of the torchlight reflecting off his glasses and hiding his eyes.

“Argent..”

The alchemist swallowed, his arm raising defensively as he tentatively reached for the keywords to manifest [Lesser Barrier] as he had practiced back at his room. Instructor Heiran moved towards him with very slow steps, hands cupping together as he spoke.

“Would I be correct in assuming you are born of this world?”

Argent tentatively kept up his guard, but offered a reply.

“..Um.. Yes, I am.”

“...Would it surprise you to know that I am not?”

Argent supposed it shouldn’t have, but as a matter of fact it did. Instructor Heiran was certainly eccentric, but he was so deeply knowledgeable about the Ninth Reality and its workings that there had never been any reason to doubt him being native to it. He was the primary instructor for world history at the academy, after all. The magus stepped forward, seemingly amused by Argent’s taken aback expression, smiling as the threatening glint faded from his glasses. With a graceful motion he slid back into the chair at his desk and posed another question, chuckling as Argent breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why do you think I chose to become a Magus, Argent?”

“..Because you had advantageous aspects for it… And because you were intelligent?”

The alchemist surmised, though no sooner than he said the words he became self-aware of what a bland textbook answer it had been. The stereotypical projection of a ‘caster class’. Instructor Heiran’s smile widened.

“I’ll take that as a compliment–”

He started with a wink, straightening up before continuing.

“--But no! No, Argent, I took up casting because in my original world, nothing like it existed.”

Argent stared at him blankly.

“There was no magic. No arts. Nothing of the sort. Advanced technology was the closest anything could come to being supernatural, in my world.”

“How is that possible? World energies.. Kai, Ken, Koh.. Qi, Arcana, Aether, Mana.. Whatever the form or name, they exist in every reality.”

Instructor Heiran nodded his head.

“That much is certainly true– Though what you must remember is that the ways in which mortal inhabitants of each reality were permitted to interact with world energy was determined by their founding Deity…”

“..But?”

Argent questioned, sensing that there was more to come from the way the magus’ tone of voice lilted towards the end of his speech.

“But– I’m not from any of the seven realities, Argent.”

The alchemist stared at his professor in dumbfounded confusion, the words clearly not processing. After several moments, he stammered lightly, trying to put a sentence of disbelief together purely off instinct; Only to be silenced by Instructor Heiran with a dismissive shake of the head.

“That is the truth.”

“H-how.. How is that even possible? What does that mean?”

He sputtered, feeling somewhat like a broken record.

“It simply means that the universe is a vast, unending space– far beyond the confines of our ability to perceive… Worlds beyond worlds.. And time without end”

Instructor Heiran removed his glasses for a moment, cleaning them against the sleeves of his robe before carefully balancing them back upon the bridge of his nose.

“To set it in a familiar scope, let us look to the story of our current reality.. You recall that this reality, the ninth, was salvaged by Eon from fragments of the original seven once Chaos had ravaged them beyond repair. Known at that moment as the ‘Worldsphere’, this reality was created primarily to allow the seven Oversouls a place to be reborn, ruined as their original worlds had been. This of course resulted in all seven souls being combined into a single reincarnation, Lilith, and on and on as that story goes– but that is not the part of import.”

Argent shifted lightly, his breath caught in his throat, not daring to interrupt despite the thousands of questions in his head.

“What is important, is that while Eon protected the Worldsphere within its own pocketed existence– Beyond, without, all around– Throughout all the rest of reality; Chaos raged. It thrashed and devoured, ever expanding, into the infinite cosmos. Acrost dimensions as well as distance, time as well as space, it tore through the fabric of everything until the very moment Lilith emerged from the Worldsphere to slay it.. And when she did.. When she shattered the Heart of Time, severing the threads which permit influence between dimensions and undoing the ties linking all words together… In that moment of climax, many things slipped through the eye of existence’s needle, bonded as they were by Chaos’ touch..”

The magus tapped his fingers against his chest.

“I, am one of those things.”

His smile only widened as Argent stared at him in utter bewilderment.

“You see, Argent, I have loved and learned every detail of this world because to me it is an indescribable fantasy. A wonder the likes of which I could have never known nor experienced in my own time. And I tell you all this for one reason– to prepare you to accept the ways that I will attempt to communicate my knowledge to you. Because of the difference in our origin and experience, our perceptions of the foundations of this world are vastly skewed… And to properly educate you beyond the basics, I must bring you to understand MY vantage point.”

Rising from his chair, Instructor Heiran moved to the massive arcane blackboard at the front of his classroom. Clearing the last of his previous lesson with a wave of his hand, the magus took a deep breath and turned to face Argent once again, giving the boy a sympathetic look where he remained motionless as a petrified statue.

“Right. I know that was a lot. Take ten, have a breather, get yourself a drink. Once you are ready, we will begin.”

Not knowing how else to react, Argent did precisely that. He walked a lap around the lecture hall in an internal gray state, mind running around itself over and over again in an attempt to compartmentalize this new information. Worlds beyond the seven realities? Threads of Chaos linking existence beyond creation? Beyond time? Once the overwhelmingness had faded to the point that he no longer felt covered in a haze, the alchemist borrowed a teapot and two mugs from one of the academy rest stations and returned to Instructor Heiran’s classroom. The magus welcomed him back and gratefully accepted a mug of tea, knowing that the two of them were now settling in for what the Instructor would refer to as ‘the long haul’.

“So, Argent.. Have you ever heard the aether plane referred to as a ‘Menu’?”

*****

The next four hours were spent in heavy discussion as Instructor Heiran attempted to expound upon the intricacies of the world as Argent knew it, using terms and vocabulary the younger boy had never before heard applied in such a way. The magus spoke of the aether plane as a menu, an ‘interface’ for a ‘system’; describing the expanding nodes of each aspect as an infinitely branching skill tree. The aether which pooled in one’s center, accumulated through combat, crafting, and casting, he referred to interchangeably as either ‘experience’ or ‘SP’-- Skill points. Describing it as a resource necessary to ‘unlock’ arts.

Argent struggled to keep up with the terminology being thrown around, as the professor mused over how ‘level’ in this world was not truly an independent value at all, but instead a reflection of one’s power made off a calculation of their abilities. It seemed to amuse and perhaps– disappoint– the magus, when he called it a ‘ghost value’. A number determined as a placeholder in a system which only truly valued skills.

He lamented the absence of what he called ‘stat points’ and ‘hp’, expressing dismay over how dangerous a world with advanced skills but strictly mortal laws was, as a concept. He also took great care to note that, while arts capacity was a factor in this reality, it was different from what might be called ‘mp’. Most specifically in that it was not a resource being used, but rather one’s ability to process the byproducts of reformed world energies as their nature and properties were changed by arts.

World energies inevitably left something of themselves behind when altered, and this something needed a place to go, a source to bind to, until it could return to the flow of existence. The caster became that binding point. This was why arts which manipulated something already formed, like earth or plants, typically consumed less capacity than an art that conjured an effect from thin air. Naturally, the more impressive an art, the more change it created in the world; thus requiring the caster to shoulder an increasingly greater burden in order to prevent the fabric of reality from being damaged.

The deepest dive into obscurity, however, came when the magus began to speak of what he referred to as ‘theorycrafting’. He proposed a supposition that, in his belief, the aether plane itself was uniquely sentient. Aware. Not merely a jumble of scripted presets and rules, but an adaptive and intelligent entity that made dynamic judgements– Insisting that while academia lacked any true understanding as to why it behaved in the ways it did, the experiences and studies of himself and other scholars from differing origin worlds had all but proved that the development of one’s aspect path was influenced by the user’s needs and actions.

Each individual in this reality started with randomized aspects and a unique starting branch of accessible cardinal arts, that much was concrete knowledge; But Instructor Heiran claimed quite vehemently that the way one’s path progressed was fundamentally determined by choices. The ways an individual thought, the ways they acted, the ways they used their arts and the ways they trained themselves. That ‘the system’, as he called it, actively conformed to one’s methods and tendencies on a subtle level, thereby enabling individuals to form specialties and styles even without they themselves being fully aware of doing so.

He dove headfirst into an explanation of how he believed that unique arts were, in essence, gifts from the system. Rewards and recompense for one’s experiences and achievements, or specialized triggers designed to support beings within this reality and enable them to fulfill their destinies. Their ‘Fates’. To help justify this, he explained the existence of two unique abilities which he possessed, [Analyze] and [Universal Translation], which he had been granted after arriving in this world. Arts which had been critical to his adaptation and survival.

The longer the discussion went on, the more ‘into it’ the magus became. Gesturing eccentrically and escalating into shouting at times, his enthusiasm and passion bordered on the incoherent as he flooded Argent’s brain with entirely too much information all in one heaping, crushing blow.

After some hours, Instructor Heiran finally paused for a long moment and pretended to cough when he noticed the helpless look Argent was giving him. Pulling away from his rant, he settled back against his chair and took a long sip of tea, slowing his breathing as he took a moment to wind down. Carefully adjusting his spectacles before directing the conversation towards a new detail entirely.

“So, within the aether plane.. The Menu.. We have established that aether– experience– is the resource used to gain access to arts. Once an art is unlocked, it is able to be commanded, through some use of the cardinal language or the system itself.”

Barely recovering from the previous torrent of exposition, Argent slowly nodded his head, showing that he was following on at least that much.

“Excellent. But, as you have expressed to me, you have now seen that after a time.. The node for an art can be filled even further. That it can be enhanced.”

It was the question that had triggered this entire conversation in the first place.

“Yes. One of my unique arts, it.. It must have changed while I was using it. I didn’t notice at first, but afterwards, I was able to project aether into it a second time.”

Instructor Heiran’s eyes may as well have taken the shape of stars.

“Amazing, simply amazing.”

He breathed, shaking his head in awe.

“This art, clearly it is one you use often?”

“I.. I guess I use it more or less every day. Whenever I channel my pistols, or mix a potion.”

“That would do it.. You see, Argent, what has occurred with your art is referred to by the masters as ‘attunement’.”

Using his ability to control the blackboard, the magus created another projection of his own mental image of the aether plane. As before, its general design and flow was immediately recognizable in its shape, though there were many aspects which struck Argent as being different from his own perception; reinforcing what had been said regarding each individual experiencing the aether plane in a way that made intrinsic sense to them. Instructor Heiran centered the image on a node, expanding it and then gesturing towards its edges with a pointing stick.

“Surrounding the edge of the node for this art, right around its borders here, do you see these small notches? Are they present within your own aether sight?”

Argent squinted at the image, frowning, before taking a moment to trance.

“Not.. Really.”

“Unsurprising. And, you may never fully see them, depending on how your ability to view the aether plane develops over time. But, whether you perceive them or not, they are there– they are the thresholds for attunement, a hidden value within the system of arts.”

“A hidden value?”

“Exactly as the name implies, a factor which is not explicitly revealed. Invoking an art builds attunement, Argent, which gathers around the edge of that art’s node. Once it completes a full boundary, it seals itself and reinforces the node, permitting it to be fed again with aether in order to ‘rank’ the art.”

His visual projection simulated the process, subtly displaying a very gradual thickening of the border around the node until it was completed, solidified, and refilled.

“Typically this takes a very long time. It differs from art to art, but generally requires hundreds if not thousands of casts. Once achieved, however, a rank in attunement vastly improves the efficacy of an art. Sometimes granting it more power, other times making it more efficient to cast or maintain, or even adding new features. The effects of attunement are as varied as the individual trees of aspects that each of us possess.”

Compared to many of the other things which had been previously discussed, this bit of information was easy to digest. It made sense to the alchemist. Which left him with only a single, skeptical question;

“This seems.. Important. Why have I never heard of this before?”

Instructor Heiran let out a heavy sigh.

“As I explained in lecture, Argent.. Many in this world can barely manage to access the aether plane at all, let alone intricately manage it while casting their arts hundreds of thousands of times.. This is a knowledge reserved for those of great experience. Spellcasters and warriors who have refined themselves in the crucible of their discipline.”

Wiping the board clean again, he gave Argent a mischievous grin.

“Beyond that, my boy, it is an unfortunate truth that much knowledge in this world is jealously guarded. While we at this academy do our damndest to elevate and educate you all as highly as possible– though usually during the later years of your attendance– Frankly, there are some old geezers who would like to cut my tongue out of my skull for even mentioning any of this outside of their ‘grand circles’. Jealous old bastards holed up in their towers, pining over their perceived balance of power and greatness… The sort of mages that my teacher always hated.”

“Your teacher..?”

“Praetor Kianthran, of course.”

Argent dropped his mug of tea with a loud clatter and remained motionless even as its contents began leaking off the side of the desk and into his lap, looking away only as a booming voice came echoing from beyond the classroom door.

“Zodias? ZODIAS!”

The sound was powerful and rugged, with an exotic accent that was undoubtedly feminine despite its rich bass. Instructor Heiran looked suddenly alarmed as he glanced upwards at the clock.

“Zodias! We were supposed to meet an hour ago, why are you still here?!”

The unseen voice questioned and accused simultaneously, before the doors to the lecture hall were thrown open with tremendous impact. Standing dead center of the open doorway was a massive woman, an aslan beastkin, rising to a height of at least seven feet. She was dressed.. Wildly.. Was the gentlest way Argent could think to put it, as he tried to avoid staring at her massively gifted bosom as it was meagerly contained by a wrap of crimson fabric. Paired with the wrapping, a veil of beads and ornaments hung around her waist like a psuedo skirt, with flexible shorts that could barely be considered clothing the only real thing preserving her decency underneath. Her skin was deeply tanned, lightened only in places where jagged scars spanned the distance of her muscular frame. Her eyes were a powerful gold with the slit pupils of a cat, and her hair fell back in a jet black mane of unkempt waves which covered more of her body than her clothes did. Tall feline ears peeked from the mess while a sleek black tail whipped behind her, fluffed only at its tip.

“Why are you still here??”

She repeated aggressively, her eyes narrowing upon Zodias before she abruptly stopped and sniffed the air. Her ears rotated coyly in their search for sound, zeroing in on a second heartbeat within the room as she turned her head to the side and stared at Argent.

“And WHY are you HOLDING A STUDENT HOSTAGE AT THIS HOUR?”

She bellowed, looking both shocked and concerned. The magus was in a full scramble, moving on a path to intercept the lioness as she began her stride towards Argent, but she bowled right overtop of the much smaller man. His entire weight barely proved a nuisance to her muscular frame.

“N-n-no, no! Garro, this is a misunderstanding!”

He sputtered, waving his arms as he fell. Argent rose to his feet in concern, unsure of how to react as the bizarre situation unfolded. The aslan woman’s eyes fell immediately to his tea-soaked crotch, and she went ballistic.

“Gods above, he would not even let you loose for a PEE BREAK?!”

Argent’s cheeks flushed crimson as his eyes fell to the wet spot on his trousers.

“No! This– This is tea! It’s tea!”

He tried to interject, but the woman was directly in front of him now. She towered over him like a guardian statue, placing a powerful hand on his shoulder in a protective gesture. As her heavy accent rang in his ears, Argent noted that she gave off a thick scent of mulled spice.

“It is alright now. Go. I will handle him.”

“Garro, please, wait–!!”

Instructor Heiran’s plea was cut short as the woman suddenly bound over the desk like a leaping cat, clotheslining him around the waist with a single arm as the two vanished into thin air with a perfectly cut yelp. As the ticking of the clock became the only remaining sound within the hall, Argent was left to stand in silence, alone with the burning embarrassment in his cheeks.. Wondering what the hell had just happened, and what he had gotten himself into.