Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided

TUChapter 1. Descent + Free Audiobook Chapter 1 announcement!

TU1. Descent

Rippling, iridescent carpets of light, a true aurora borealis, wove through the dark abyss above as gravity dragged her body downward.

She was falling. The descent felt like merciless claws grasping her, pulling her deeper into the void. Gravity was an unyielding, unforgiving force. It spared nothing, not even particles of light.

Her silver hair whipped against her cheeks. She extended her hands toward the beautiful, starry lights far above, but they dismissed her reach, fading into nothingness. Darkness consumed her whole, yet her glowing silver eyes streaked through the black, ever brimming with resolve.

There was no going back. She had passed the event horizon, the point of no return.

She didn’t know how long the fall took, or if worldly time could even be measured here. Her senses barely felt the surreal shift of space and time.

Then came a sudden jolt, accompanied by a blinding flash of white light.

Short, stubby hands stretched outward. They were hers. Aurora had never felt so small, so devastatingly vulnerable. Sound rushed into her ears like cascading waves — the trill of bird songs and the rustling of leaves. As her vision cleared, she saw the mature, sharp jawline of her mother.

Austria wore a cream chiton fastened with a golden pin. Her beautiful, stern visage was framed by ashen hair and an olive laurel that rested like a crown upon her head.

"Am I... a baby?" the bewildered Aurora tried to gasp, but only an infant's bubbling babble left her throat.

Her mother’s silvery eyes looked down, and her lips parted into a wide, radiant smile. It was the most genuine and sweetest smile Aurora thought she had ever seen from her typically strict mother.

"Little Aurora woke up," Austria chuckled lightly, eyeing another figure nearby. Their face remained blurred and unrecognisable in the memory.

Another babble escaped Aurora's tiny lips. Her mother leaned closer, her silver hair cascading down like an elegant waterfall.

"Would you like to play?" Austria cooed in a gentle, melodic baby voice.

A memory... There was no doubt about it.

Aurora wiggled, curling her tiny fingers into her mother’s locks, feeling the soft, smooth texture of the hair. The fragrance of wild daisies wafted into her nose.

"Ma..." She forced the heavy words out. "Mama!"

Austria gasped. Her eyes widened with pure delight. "Oh, dear! It’s your first word!" She blinked crystal tears from her eyes, her softness and deep affection filling the air around them.

Before Aurora could say another word, another blinding flash of light engulfed her.

This time, she found herself standing in the grand courtyard of Borealis Castle. Her mother’s shadow loomed above her. Austria's face was indifferent — solemn, even. This was the stern Austria she knew so well, tall and deeply intimidating to Aurora as a mere child.

"Umm... I will start now," young Aurora said. An inexplicable nervousness made her spin back toward the onlookers.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. A sea of faces circled her, speculating and scrutinising. Celestius Virtius Vyn Nyra and his brothers stood prominently among them.

My first Epopteia ritual...

Aurora’s mind reeled as she watched herself.

In this era, there was no Philosophy Orb to conveniently assess her essences. She had to demonstrate them through raw willpower. Aurora extended her palms to the empty space, feeling the familiar warmth as mana gathered within her.

"Th—" Her voice hitched.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep trembling breath, gathering her mental focus. She had trained relentlessly for this exact moment, chanting the arcane theories until her throat went raw. Steeling herself, Aurora forced her eyes open. They illuminated with a brilliant silver light. The concept of death embedded itself into the deepest recesses of her mind.

"Thanatos-spatha!" she chanted. Her voice resonated with divine authority, instantly silencing the speculative whispers of the crowd.

A purple flame manifested, bursting into the air. It took the shape of a long, thin blade. At first, its surface was coarse and ancient, shifting and forging within the dancing purple fire until a smooth, gleaming greatsword drifted gently into her palms.

"Gaia! The prodigy of the arcane has been born!"

"The child who holds the concept of death itself!" a random voice echoed in the mixture of awe and terror.

Aurora spun toward the source of the shout. But there, she did not see expressions of glory or praise. She saw raw fear and fright swimming in their eyes. Her heart sank. Isolated. She bit her lip as the crowd shifted and kneeled before her. All except her mother, who looked down at her with unyielding eyes, her chin held high in cold pride.

Then, Austria nodded sombrely. The world began to spin, and Aurora fainted.

Flash.

The foul scent of blood and burning ashes seared her nostrils. Aurora blinked crimson droplets from her eyes, the world a red blur. Every inch of her body screamed in total agony.

Acidic rain ran down her tattered armour, the prickling water soaking through the cracked metal plates.

"Another memory?" Aurora murmured, no longer fighting the intrusive montage of her life.

A forceful wind battered her, making her stumble forward. Quickly, she plunged the Thanatos-spatha into the dirt to anchor herself. It was a massive greatsword; its width alone was almost the size of her shoulder span.

"Ha... Ha..." Exhausted breaths hissed through her teeth.

Before her lay the carcass of the titanic beast, Ventiff. Its sheer monstrosity rivalled the size of a grand cathedral. Surrounding its smouldering corpse was the ruin and destruction of the citadel, a graveyard of rubble spreading far beyond the horizon. Smoke and fire still roared in the distance, illuminating the crimson storm clouds above.

Desolation made reality.

Thousands had perished over multiple days of a brutal siege. Six major cities were left in utter annihilation. Corpses — an unrecognisable mass of meat and bone — littered the ruins, resting alongside the fragmented debris of once-prideful katanas, artillery, and transports.

In the middle of the devastation, emerging as the lone victor, Aurora raised the Greatsword of Oblivion high. Her jaw strained wide as she let out a ferocious, rapacious roar that thundered against the bleeding sky.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Flash.

"Again?" Aurora felt the inevitable pull into another episode.

The blinding light waned, replaced by thundering cheers from a rousing crowd. She stood at the centre of a colossal arena. Beside her, a floating disc drifted as Celestius Virtius Vyn Nyra, clad in an ornate, lavish frost uniform, spun toward her. His youthful, androgynous face brimmed with deep admiration.

He truly hasn't aged a day, Aurora commented internally, studying the elven man.

His gloved hand gestured toward her. "And here, I present to you, Aurora Vere Borealis! The most esteemed title obtainable. The bane of evil, the conqueror of the legendary beast Ventiff, and the absolute pinnacle of the arcane!" His magically amplified voice boomed loud and clear, sending the crowds into an even wilder frenzy.

Heaps of flowers — stiff, crown-like laurels and fragrant, delicate myrtles — were tossed onto the sands at Aurora's feet. It was a phyllobolia of deep respect, a thundering vow of affection from the people of the empire.

Virtius let the crowd settle slightly before exchanging a gentle smile with her. "And here, I bestow the title of the Legendary Luminary!"

He held up a starlight ring. It boasted six symmetrical tails of light radiating outward from the centre, much like the brilliant, drawn-out streaks of a star captured in a long exposure. The band glowed with an iridescent finish. A strange gemstone, thrumming with arcane energy, sat squarely at its core, flanked by an ostentatious array of priceless, perfectly cut crystals.

"May I?" Virtius asked, presenting the ring.

"Please," Aurora replied, a prideful smile forming at the corner of her lips.

Slowly, Virtius slid the ornate ring onto her index finger. She raised her fist skyward, sparking another massive wave of cheers that immortalised the moment in history.

Watching the memory, the present Aurora found herself smiling fondly. Life had been much, much simpler then. Slay the big bad, and you were rewarded handsomely. She spared one last look at her younger self, knowing all too well that her life was about to become infinitely more complicated, and that her burning passion would soon erode under the crushing weight of time.

"Time to go," she commanded the memory, her voice a low groan.

Another flash pulled her away.

In the grand throne chamber, Aurora saw herself seated upon the high throne, raised tens of metres above the platform. She always hated that throne. The twelve Celestius mages kneeled before her in absolute reverence, each swearing an oath to serve under her sovereignty. It was her coronation day. The day she adopted the title of the Astral Empress of Osten in her full glory.

"The beginning of the golden age!" the younger Aurora shouted, her tone echoing with undeniable, authoritative power.

As the present Aurora’s gaze scanned the rows of her royal subjects, she found her mother among them. The stern lady stood poised, her hands resting perfectly at her stomach, ever regal. Yet, there was not a single hint of a smile on Austria's dignified visage.

Aurora forced her eyes shut, feeling a painful squeeze in her chest. The higher she climbed, the further away her mother became.

"Next!" Aurora uttered into a desperate roar, forcefully shifting the memory.

Flash.

This one was far more recent, Aurora realised. To her surprise, it was a long dining chamber filled with warm chitchat and soft giggles of the young ones.

Cartier, her loyal ward and scribe, was there, enthusiastically reciting her latest learnings. Triss, a gentle and innocent lady who held tremendous potential for Proceptis, the power of clairvoyance, listened intently. And her maid Mirai, a sweet cat Wildren who catered to her every need, poured drinks. They were sharing a lovely, heartfelt meal.

Later in the vision, Zetius and his companion Cubellina joined them; their bright smiles and warm companionship seemingly melting the cold stone walls of Borealis Castle.

"Home..." Aurora muttered. Bitterness coated her mouth at the sight, her lips trembling softly.

It was one of her absolute dearest moments. Sorrow and profound regret spread to every corner of her soul. The wish that the good times could have lasted just a while longer was nothing but naive, wishful thinking.

The memory parted from her.

For seven minutes, she fell.

The gravitational acceleration suddenly became null. No, that wasn't exactly right. It was no longer a physical, gravitational downward pull; it was a dimensional descent. Her very soul seemed to ripple, humming with an eerie, melancholic musical tune.

Teal light illuminated and engulfed her body once more. She studied her armoured gauntlets, her hair — everything that had survived the ethereal trip intact.

She clasped a hand to her chest, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat against her skin.

She was still alive.

Another flash blinded her, but this time, it faded into pure, unadulterated darkness.

She was standing in the middle of a dead world. Jagged, imposing mountains loomed in the distance. The infinite landmass was a bleak wasteland of sulfuric ashes, jagged boulders, mud, and hard dirt. Destruction and despair seemed to scream from the landscape, despite the heavy, suffocating silence of the realm.

"Where am I? The gates of the underworld?" Aurora murmured to herself, finally free from the cascading montage of memories.

"Haaa..." Her body suddenly gasped violently for air, a cold sweat forming on her ashen face.

Her lungs burned. The atmosphere here was devastatingly thin, devoid of life-giving oxygen. Why would the dead need air to breathe? Aurora clutched her throat as panic flared in her chest.

Instead of thrashing wildly, she forced herself to pause, gathering her racing thoughts.

If this is merely a lethal lack of oxygen, I can let the cells in my lungs suffocate and perish, consistently regenerating the necrotic tissue with Iasis…

She waved her palm experimentally, feeling a faint, dead breeze brush against her skin.

There was some atmosphere, but it was incredibly thin and toxic. Given the extent of my arcane expertise, I should be able to perpetually cast Iasis using the framework of Omitting casting. This way, I won't need to constantly chant the spell. I only need to hold my breath and etch the concept into my subconscious.

With her resolve hardened and a plan in mind, Aurora placed her palm flat against her chest and chanted.

"Iasis!"

A soothing, radiant glow of green leaves filled her body. Her screaming lungs relaxed as the arcane magic rapidly healed her dying cells in the passivity. Like a perpetual machine, she could indefinitely survive without air, especially since she had the Everfeast to sustain her mana consumption.

"It works like breathing, huh…" Aurora murmured to herself, genuinely surprised. "I truly have Nyrethein to thank for this. She really thought of everything." She summoned the arc gourd into her palm to inspect it, grateful for the preparation.

Suddenly, a faint anomaly nudged her senses. She quickly spun toward the source, her tense body snapping into its ingrained battle instincts.

Shapeless glow of light floated idly in the gloom, hovering as though waiting for something. Some were glowing crystal blues, others a swirling mixture of colours, and a few were so dark they seemed to suck the ambient light right out of the ambience.

Aurora looked at them, studying the phenomena with sharp studiousness. She recalled an old lecture from her mother, the spirits of the dead consisted entirely of their worldly sins and virtues, which acted as the main drivers pulling them toward their final resting place. She was likely the only one lucky enough to journey here with a living soul, walking the path of the deities of old.

The underworld was never just hell; it was the ultimate resting place of souls. A dimension that transcended far beyond the earthly realm.

The horizon was incredibly grim in the absolute absence of a sun. It felt as though this world were a boundless dimension trapped between two tectonic plates, yet despite her enhanced eagle vision, she couldn’t see a ceiling to this colossal cavern. Her mind reeled as she tried to understand the sheer cosmic concept of her location.

According to the old myths, there had to be a river of hatred. The Styx. And there must be a way for the lingering souls to move on.

She paced back and forth, getting the blood circulating in her legs. She found a small rock and tossed it up and down. At least gravity still worked normally here; certain foundational laws of physics were still adhered to. That was good.

"The ferryman, Charon!" An idea blurted out, her voice flat in the thin air. "I must find the river, and ask Charon to ferry me to the Stygian Marsh!" She punched her fist into her open palm.

"Maybe if I survey the area with Ventiff?" She cupped her chin, her brows knitting together in thought. "No, impossible. The air density here is far too thin. Ventiff is too heavy to generate enough aerodynamic lift to sustain flight." She shook her head in defeat.

"There must be something else here—What am I missing?"

Sweeping her eyes across the bleak landscape, she noticed a pattern. "What is that...?" Aurora gasped. The floating soul orbs seemed to be slowly drifting, flowing together like a gentle current in a specific direction.

With no better options available, she decided to follow them.

"Time to find out."