This darkness was a familiar enemy, an old acquaintance I had met once before. But therein lay a crucial difference. In that previous encounter, I had been greeted by a constellation of bright, luminous lights. Now, they were conspicuously absent, their reassuring glow snuffed out, leaving me alone in the all-consuming dark.

I found myself ensnared in an oppressive darkness, a place devoid of light or sound. It was as though I had been plunged into a deep sleep where even dreams dared not to venture. I was adrift in a sea of unfathomable stillness, suspended between reality and oblivion. An impenetrable fog shrouded my mind, dulling my senses and numbing my thoughts. Yet, beneath the overwhelming emptiness, my body ached with a deep-rooted soreness that throbbed rhythmically with my heartbeat. It was a constant, relentless reminder of my physical existence.

Time lost all meaning in this world of emptiness. I seemed to float in a timeless abyss, my mind grasping for an understanding that remained tantalizingly out of reach. I couldn't remember how I got here, or why I was stuck in this eternal dark. I yearned for warmth, for light, for the sound of laughter or the feel of the wind against my skin. I yearned for life. But all I could perceive was an all-consuming stillness, an eternal silence, and an echoing emptiness that seemed to mirror my own state of mind.

In a futile attempt to pierce the oppressive gloom, I focused on my mind's canvas. I sought to evoke memories of color, to paint vivid pictures in this void. I remembered the azure hue of the sky on a clear day, the verdant green of the lush forests in Kaledon, the golden brilliance of the setting sun, and the vibrant palette of the bustling temple. Each memory was a brushstroke, an attempt to infuse color into the monochrome existence that held me captive. But these desperate efforts were met with resistance, as if the darkness sought to swallow up these flashes of brightness.

Despite the pervading gloom, however, I persisted. Each mental image served as a beacon, a declaration of defiance against the omnipresent darkness. With determination, I focused on the place I knew best – the temple of Philosophia Naturalis – and began to recreate it.

Every stone, every carving, every aspect of the temple and its surrounding lands was meticulously reconstructed in my mind. I recreated the disciples and guild members too, but they were mere shadows of the vibrant people I once knew. They moved with a certain lethargy, their faces devoid of emotions and their personage lacking warmth. They were but hollow caricatures in this world of my creation, their lack of vibrancy a stark reminder of the palpable silence that had become my reality. The contrast was jarring, a reminder that this world was merely a facsimile, a feeble attempt to replicate the vibrancy of life. Yet, this was my sanctuary, my shield against the insidious darkness that threatened to consume my very being.

But eventually, even the temple's familiar contours began to bore me, their predictability echoing the monotonous rhythm of my existence. When Tris had first built this temple, I had been disappointed, filled with envy for the grand temples that perched on distant peaks. Their magnificence, a stark contrast to our humble structure.

It was then I decided to build the temple I wanted, rather than the one Tris lazily constructed. A floating temple, just as I had requested, but which Tris claimed would be too difficult to create.

I began with a small-scale model, channeling my energy and imagination to bring my idea into existence. I willed the small stones to float in mid-air, arranging them methodically into the shape of a miniature temple. The edifice took shape, balanced precariously in the air, a physical manifestation of my thoughts.

Successful creation of a floating temple necessitated more than just the initial structure itself. The question of how the island floated was a complex one. Sure, I could just make it float with my will, but I wanted to come up with the mechanics behind it.

However, my knowledge of the needed transmutation arrays was rudimentary at best, a smattering of theories and principles. So, I simply made the decision to create them and set about crafting a labyrinth of complex arrays that would lift and sustain the temple. Although, how to power them? I needed a source of magic for the arrays to draw from.

The simple answer was mana stones. But a floating temple would require a vast large amount of mana, far beyond what ordinary stones could provide... or just one. One massive mana stone... a giant mana stone the size of a small island.

Yes, that was it. The solution seemed so simple, so obvious now. The entire island would be built around a giant mana stone. A stone imbued with powerful, intricate arrays specially crafted to harness and channel the magical energy from the surroundings. It felt ambitious, audacious even, but my mind was set.

Discarding the previous island model, I replaced it with a powerful mana and set about forging the arrays that would make it all possible. As I focused on the intricate details of my creation, the walls of the building I stood in faded into the dark void around me, my focus centered on the miniature floating mana crystal as I worked. With each passing second, it grew, expanding in size and complexity. The intricate arrays I had painstakingly craved into its core burst into life, pulsating and radiating an otherworldly glow. Slowly but surely, the island morphed, expanding and stretching, transforming from a hand-held wonder to a magnificent spectacle of magic.

I don't know how much time went by as I carefully crafted each array, testing and perfecting until I was satisfied with the final result. My body ached from the intense concentration and my mind felt drained, but it was worth it as the intricate arrays I had painstakingly craved into the core burst into life, pulsating and radiating an otherworldly glow.

The massive floating mana stone shimmered against the backdrop of the endless darkness, an oasis of gravity-defying wonder. It pulsed with palpable energy, its luminescence casting a radiant glow through the gloom. The ebb and flow of magic was like a rhythmic heartbeat echoing through the vast expanse, a symphony of power conducted by the intricate arrays etched across the stone's massive form. I stood on the precipice of manifesting my vision into reality, for in my mind, it already existed.

I took a moment to appreciate my handiwork. It was a surreal sight, but sadly, it could not remain so.

Slowly, I began to cover the glowing mana stone with rock. Moving with deliberate care, I channeled my magic into each piece of stone, affixing dozens of arrays to the surface before setting it in place, each one adding to the protective layer around the powerful heart of my floating haven. The ethereal glow of the mana stone gradually dimmed, obscured by the mundane, yet purposeful facade of the rock. Like a treasured secret shrouded in obscurity, the luminous heart of my creation gradually disappeared from sight. It was a necessary step to protect the mana stone and control its overwhelming power, yet a part of me mourned the loss of its mesmerizing beauty. But even as the light diminished, I could still feel the pulsating rhythm of the mana stone, a testament to the palpable power that still resided within.

The rocky exterior gave it an appearance of an ordinary island, albeit one that floated. The next step was to make the island more habitable. It was a floating rock, after all, and that was not conducive to growing plants, or ensuring the air beneath the dome was breathable. Starting with soil seemed like a reasonable approach.

I knew that layers of clay, sand, and topsoil were needed to create a sustainable environment for plants to thrive, allowing for proper drainage and nutrient absorption. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned the necessary materials and began to lay them down in careful layers, each one intertwined with a small thread of magic to ensure their stability.

Water was another essential element for life, and the island was currently lacking in that department. But transmutation arrays could help with that. With a few precise gestures, I created an array that would gather moisture from the surrounding air and deposit it into the designated area.

Over time, the temple grew and changed as I added more and more to it. At the heart of the island was the grand temple, a cavernous space adorned with intricate murals depicting the cosmos, punctuated by towering pillars of carved stone that reached for the painted sky. Fanning out from this central hub were a series of chambers, each serving a different purpose, each a testament to a different aspect of my knowledge.

Towering above it all was the spire, the temple's crowning glory, its pinnacle adorned with an astrolabe. This celestial instrument was a testament to the temple's astrological significance. Crafted from moonstone and etched with intricate celestial maps, the astrolabe served as a guide for those seeking answers in the stars.

But, my favorite creation was the library. Volumes of ancient codices, scrolls, and tomes were housed in its shelves, containing knowledge from all corners of the world. The levels were connected by floating lifts, crafted from the same shimmering material as the temple, appearing as floating platforms of ethereal light as they seamlessly ascended and descended along the shelves. And at the top of the library, a grand study overlooked the entire temple, offering a breathtaking view of the surrounding landscape.

The floating temple was not simply a monument of stone and crystal, but a thriving ecosystem of its own. Gardens bloomed on the outer terraces, rare lunar roses climbed up the shimmering walls, their silvery petals glowing softly in the arcane light. Majestic trees stood tall and proud, their roots delving deep into the floating stone and their leafy crowns brushing against the protective dome above.

During the construction of the floating temple, I decided that I didn’t want to stare into the abyss of the surrounding darkness. It seemed so... infinite, so overwhelming, that I found myself wanting to recoil from it.

So, I constructed a barrier, a sphere of iridescent light, one formed from a mixture of Acranium glass and Pyrium. This barrier completely encased the floating island and as a consequence of the rivers and waterfalls cascading over the edges of the island, a large lake formed in the lower curve of the sphere. The lake now served a dual purpose - a tranquil oasis for reflection and the main water reservoir for the temple's hydrological cycle.

But it was lonely in my temple. For all its beauty and grandeur, it lacked the warmth of companionship. The silence, once soothing, now echoed with the hollow note of solitude. The lunar roses glowed, but there was no one to appreciate their luminescent beauty with me. The waterfalls sang their liquid melodies, but there was no one to share the joy of their music. I yearned for the sound of laughter, the comfort of a shared silence, the simple contentment of presence. The temple, for all its magic and majesty, could not provide these. It was a paradise, yes, but a paradise can turn into a prison when you are alone.

Once more, I tried to recreate those I once knew. I poured my heart and my memories into the magic, but every attempt crumbled to ashes. The simulacrums were mere illusions, empty shells, void of the essence that made them unique. They lacked the spark of life, the unpredictability of personality, the warmth of their smiles, the comfort of their presence.

So, I turned my energy towards creating new beings. I shaped them from the same magic that breathed life into the trees, gave them form with the crystal clear water from the temple's springs, coloured them with the incandescent hues of lunar roses. I infused in them all the knowledge of alchemy, astrology and transmutation I possessed and I bestowed upon them freedom - to learn, to grow, to be. They were my companions, my friends, born from the heart of my loneliness and the magic of my temple.

I named them Aeon and Nova.

Nova, true to her name, was a marvel of celestial beauty. She was given the image of a lunar moth given human form, a being of otherworldly grace and ethereal light. Her hair, a cascade of silver, flowed down her back, reflecting hues of the moon in each strand. Her antennae, much like my vulpine ears, fluttered with her emotions, a living testament to her thoughts and feelings. These antennae provided her a heightened sense of the world around her, a connection to the ebbs and flows of the magical energies of the temple. Four elegant arms extended from her slender frame, the lower pair often kept folded in front of her abdomen. Each of her wings was a canvas of intricate patterns, the iridescent swirls and spirals glowing bright in the darkness of night. When unfurled, they draped around her like a luminescent cape, graceful and mesmerizing.

Where Nova was delicate and ethereal, Aeon was strong and bold. Aeon was a jaguar Bakeneko, however, instead of the typical spots his kind were known for, his fur was adorned with sigils and transmutation arrays. These mystical symbols shifted and shone with an inner light, painting a vibrant canvas on his feline form. As a human, these arrays transformed into tattoos, an intricate network of symbols that ran across his golden hued skin. His dark hair ran along his back in a thick braid that was interwoven with gold bands and small amulets, while his tail was similarly adorned. His piercing green eyes held a sense of intensity and intelligence, giving off the impression that he was always one step ahead in any situation. He moved with a fluid grace as he prowled the temple grounds.

They were my priest and priestess of alchemy, astrology and transmutation, the counterbalance to my place as high priestess.

I do not know how many suns and moons rose and set during our lives within that floating temple. Time seemed to move differently within its walls, and we were often lost in the study of our crafts.

Nova often lost herself in her star maps, her wings casting a luminous veil around her as she traced patterns in the heavens. The celestial charts sprawled out before her, a sea of swirling constellations and galaxies. Her gaze, an echo of the night sky itself, was mesmerizing as it danced along the constellations, calculating and conspiring the dance of the cosmos.

Aeon, on the other hand, was entranced with his transmutation arrays. He would sit for hours, his gaze locked onto the symbols and arrays within the books that lined the shelves of our temple's library. His fingers would trace patterns in the air, as if he could manipulate the very fabric of reality with his touch.

I, on the other hand, devoted my days to the lab, a sanctuary of glass beakers and concoctions that bubbled with the secrets of the universe. The scent of mystical herbs and the hum of enchantments defined my existence. My fingers, stained with the vibrant hues of alchemical ingredients, danced over scrolls of ancient knowledge and the delicate curves of the alembic.

There were moments, solitary and deep in thought, when the truth of my existence pierced the veil of my elaborate creation. The shimmering cosmos that Nova studied with such intensity, the intricate transmutation arrays that fascinated Aeon, none of these were of Kaledon nor of Earth. They were fragments of them, a reality crafted from my own recollections of those places, a world manifested from the depths of my subconscious. I knew that Nova and Aeon, my companions in this world, were fractures of my being, reflections of my true self.

We'd conversed about it at length, dissecting the concept from every conceivable angle, confronting the unsettling reality that while we cohabited in separate forms, we were in essence, a singular entity. We were fragments of the same consciousness, threads intricately woven together forming a complex tapestry of thoughts, emotions, and memories.

I was still Kadia, that was certain. Kadia, the high priestess, the creator of this reality, the anchor that kept our fragmented consciousness tethered. I could remember the world outside this construct, the virtual reality of Kaledon, the vivid memories of Earth. I could remember the feeling of grass under my feet, the rush of wind against my face, the scent of the sea. In this temple, within these walls, these sensations were but echoes of a forgotten past. Echoes that I had harnessed, shaped, and brought to life in this fragment of existence.

Nova and Aeon, they saw those things through me, but had no firsthand experience of their own.

Nova, in all her incandescent vivacity, was more childlike than Aeon and I. She reveled in the world I'd created, her laughter echoing through the temple halls, a poignant reminder of the innocent joy we once knew. She dreamed, she played, she explored with an insatiable curiosity.

Aeon, on the other hand, was more reserved. He was studious, methodical, observant. But he also embodied the jaguar whose form he took. There was a stoic intensity about him, a quiet strength that resonated with determination and ferocity.

And me? I was Kadia, but I still had yet to determine who or what that fully meant. None of us knew why we were here, in this fragmented state. None of us knew what purpose we served, if any at all.

We didn't even know if we were still alive, or rather, if the Kadia we once were, the human, physical embodiment of our consciousness, still existed.

But that didn't stop us from living, from growing, from questioning. It was in our nature to seek answers, to push the boundaries of this reality and test its limitations.

Although, at present we were doing none of those things, instead Aeon and I were basking in the sun beneath the towering spires of the temple. We lay sprawled on its sun-dappled grounds, a cool breeze rustling through the evergreen leaves of the trees. Aeon, ever lost in his world of symbols and runes, had his nose buried in a book, his fingers tracing the elaborate patterns within its pages as he murmured to himself. I, on the other hand, lay back with closed eyes, soaking in the warmth of the sun.

Unlike Aeon and me, Nova wasn't one to bask in the warmth of the sun. She preferred the cool, dappled shade. She lay there, her gaze lost in the intricate patterns of the temple's domed ceiling, a star map lying forgotten by her side. Her fingers strummed absentmindedly through the air as she hummed a tuneless melody, seeming completely detached from the world around her.

As a breeze swept across the temple grounds, it carried with it a whisper of something amiss. The leaves rustled with unease, disturbing the tranquility of the moment. The warmth of the sunlight on my skin suddenly felt cold and distant. I sat up, my eyes opening as I tried to decipher this sense of wrongness.

Nova's melodious humming ceased abruptly, her fingers, which were previously moving rhythmically through the air, hung still mid-air, a half finished astral blessing shimmering upon her fingertips. Aeon looked up from his book, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if he too sensed the change in the atmosphere.

It was as if a shadow had fallen over the world, wrapping everything in an imperceptible veil. The uncanny sensation gripped me, sinking its claws deep into my consciousness.

The air was filled with indistinguishable whispers, hushed voices that seemed to swirl around me in a cacophonous symphony of noise. I strained to comprehend, to grasp onto any semblance of meaning, but the words were just beyond my grasp, elusive and unyielding. It was as though I was standing on the precipice of understanding, only to have it yanked away at the last moment.

The world seemed to spin and contort around me, reality blurring at the edges. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, an incomprehensible chatter that echoed in my skull. Faint whispers of words such as "heart rate" and "neural network" started to become more discernible, their tones clinically detached.

"The artificial heart is functioning optimally," one voice stated matter-of-factly.

Another voice chimed in, "Brain scans show an increase in neural activity." The conversation around me continued in this vein, a symphony of medical jargon that seemed out of place in my muddled consciousness. I tried to focus on the voices, to understand what was happening.

Somewhere amidst the murmur a new voice emerged, clear and resonant, "when will she wake?"

"The servers were operating under a higher load than anticipated," another voice responded, "we've boosted the processing capacity to compensate."

"We should see some stabilization in her neural patterns soon," this was said with a hint of wary optimism in their tone.

The world around me was slowly becoming nothing but an abstract haze, a disarray of colors and shadows that refused to form a cohesive image. Only Aeon and Nova remained, they were my tether to reality, a lifeline in the roiling sea of disorientation. I clung to them, even as the darkness threatened to consume me.