The longer this stalemate went on, the more territory she would claim. All she had to do was wait.
“We’ll see,” Northstrider responded.
Then he tore open the fabric of the world and flowed into the Way.
“Always so rude,” Malice murmured. Then she stretched her awareness out for hundreds of miles around her. There was no one who mattered.
She didn’t like to do this when she wasn’t fully secured, but Northstrider had her wondering.
So Malice slipped into the World of Night and summoned shadows of the future.
2
Information restricted: Personal Record 0013.
Authorization required to access.
Authorization confirmed: 008 Ozriel.
Beginning record…
In the legends of the ancient Rosegold continent, long forgotten by the current inhabitants of Cradle, there is a mythical location that contains all the secrets of the sacred arts. A buried city of infinite insight. A child’s tale. Anyone who finds the city and walks its streets will gain secret techniques of surpassing power, will never face any bottlenecks when advancing, and will understand secret wisdom of the heavens that will allow them to ascend.
There is no historical precedent for this location. It’s purely a myth.
But at one point on the Rosegold continent, it was a common topic of discussion. If you sought easy advancement, or tried to refine your Path, it was said that you were “Seeking Arelia.”
Ozmanthus, a boy named after a flower, was said to be seeking Arelia from the time he was a child. From his earliest years, he ran through the tunnels of the mountain in which he was born, looking for secrets in those dark caves.
Even at the initial stages of advancement, later known as Copper, he had discernment and understanding far beyond his peers. He astonished his tutors with questions about the nature and origin of vital aura, questions they were nowhere near advanced enough to answer. His control of madra made him a prodigy in his own right, so there was no lack of teachers competing to take him as a student.
This was a relief to his mother, who had no money to subsidize the advancement of a powerful sacred artist.
At Copper, Ozmanthus was celebrated for his skill. He was popular not just among his tutors, but among those his age.
At Iron, Ozmanthus became famous in his generation. He designed and perfected his own Iron body, and was once again said to be seeking Arelia. Everyone expected great things.
It was at Jade that Ozmanthus began to notice a problem.
The others his age were still Copper.
That wasn’t entirely true; some of those from wealthy families, or from organizations that focused exclusively on the sacred arts, had been sponsored directly to Lowgold. But the ones he’d grown up with, those who had only recently been his friends, were two entire stages down from him.
He could no longer play games with them, as he would win. He couldn’t study with them, as he had already outstripped many of their teachers in theory. And they began to avoid him.
For Ozmanthus, it was only a minor grief. His Path lay ahead of him, full of possibility, and everyone told him what wonders he would accomplish. With his spiritual perception now open, there was a whole new world bared to his mind.
He had decided the details of his Path by Lowgold, refining it during endless hours in the library. He chose techniques of pure destruction. Why settle for inefficiency?
That led to another troubling trend for Ozmanthus. The sacred arts in Cradle tend to focus on combat applications because of the never-ending competition for resources, but soon, there was no one under the Lord realm who could compete against him.
He was not shunned for this. Far from it; his master and those from his homeland were ecstatic at this young genius.
But he was always alone. When he went into the wilderness seeking spirits or natural treasures, it was easier to go himself. Someone else would just slow him down.
While Ozmanthus was not entirely content with his solitude, he knew it was only temporary. He couldn’t be the greatest genius in the world. Somewhere, he would find someone who would keep up with him.
Until then, he would slow down. He gave up his spear for a broom, but he didn’t mind that. He liked being the only sacred artist in the world to fight with a broom. It had style.
After reaching Underlord, he grew in knowledge, and insight, and power. He studied the nature of soulfire and proved its connection to deeper truths by manifesting an Icon of his choice in front of a panel of renowned scholars.
The Broom Icon.
Rather than impressed, the scholars were crushed. Ozmanthus had made their entire lives into a joke, publicly humiliating them. No less than three of them killed themselves within a week.
This greatly disturbed Ozmanthus.
In addition to advancement, Ozmanthus also turned his genius to other aspects of the sacred arts. He became known as a reliable refiner and one of the greatest Soulsmiths of his generation. He was more satisfied with this avenue of progress, and he began investigating the great Soulsmiths of the past.
This was the path for him, he decided. He would become known as a creator, a researcher. One who built.
His Path was most suited for creating weapons, which did not bother him. He never lost his admiration for those who kept the world clean, and one of the most hideous plagues in the world was the population of dreadbeasts that roamed the countryside, feeding and spewing out more of their kind.
With his weapons, he would clean the countryside.
He found an ancient labyrinth, built by the original Court of Seven before their ascension. He researched their understanding, growing in knowledge and power. And he built weapons.
To better understand his creations, he sought knowledge of death. He even created a device that would kill and revive him.
He did not realize what a catalyst that would be. As the creator of the world’s deadliest weapons, when he killed and revived himself, he instantly manifested the Death Icon.
Not what he had sought to achieve.
Ozmanthus found it now even easier to create deadly weapons. Too easy. He could create reality-warping weapons on the level of the Abidan before even ascending from the Iteration.
And with his every accomplishment, he grew more alone. No one could match his accomplishments, no one could face him in battle, and no one could understand his insights into the world beyond.
He abandoned his weapons. He focused on another of his talents: his sight. When he advanced to Monarch, he developed the bloodline ability to see.
Ozmanthus was so relieved that he wept. This was the ability that he wanted to define his legacy. And he would leave his descendants with the ability to see as he did, to one day catch up to him.
He named his House after the city he had always sought. The Arelius family should always seek greater insight.
And when he finally ascended, he left a beacon behind, a measure of his power like a black hole sealed in a transparent barrier that resembled glass. When someone appeared from his family with enough talent to join him, they would ascend with the marble, and he would know.
He expected to wait a generation, perhaps two or three.
But he was certain that very soon, House Arelius would be a dynasty that spread to the heavens themselves.
Record complete.
Lindon shouted Northstrider’s name into the sky. He begged, he pleaded, he bargained, and he even threatened. Politely.