Universe's End

Chapter 260: Totally-Not-Cursed-Tome

Rory was asking for a lot; he knew that. For a woman who’d had her entire life understanding of her vocation shaken in a single lecture, to tell her ‘Innovate now’ would be like telling a college kid who’d had a single seminar on physics to create a flying car.

Well, maybe not that extreme, but the point still stood.

But even understanding all that, there was something about the woman he found himself curious about, a sort of instinctive hunch. The nature of inscription meant there hadn’t been many inscription artists who were truly passionate about the field. Oh, sure, there had been plenty of skilled inscription artists, at least by current standards. Still, the fact that no one had managed to make a single new rune that hadn’t been derived from himself had always seemed off.

Why?

That question had been one he’d pondered for some time. Was it simply imagination? Risk aversion?

Eventually, Rory came across an answer he felt satisfied with.

It was him. He was the problem. Every single inscription artist in Ehkorrus derived their fundamental principles from Rory’s. Their mindsets and imaginations might differ, but they were all born into a framework of understanding that inadvertently prevented them from reaching out, like asking someone who only knew English to consider a problem in a different language. Maybe that would change in the future, but over a hundred years, that hadn’t been the case yet.

Zoey’s people were different. Sure, some of their derivative knowledge was from his own, by the simple nature of any rune discoveries being handed out by E.O.N, which themselves had been made by Rory. Still, it wasn’t Rory specifically who’d laid out the frame of what could or could not be done. The main thing holding them back was the trade-off between function and necessity. In their case, they had met their basic needs and therefore never bothered to go any further. It was why his recent lecture had centered upon what was possible, rather than specifically laying out his own understanding of what wasn’t.

Now, there was also no getting around the fact that those he’d seen in the crowd had not really given him the impression of having the talent to pull off what he wanted.

Except one. The look in Analissa’s eyes had been good. She was hungry in an almost existential sense, the look of someone who found themselves stagnating against their own wishes.

She’ll be the one.

Was his trial too steep?

Probably.

But.

But it was exactly the sort of thing that could finally breathe some variety into a vocation that had long relied on himself as the only true source of innovation.

Or so I hope.

Breathe.

Analissa reminded herself as her hands trembled slightly. She was over a hundred years old, and here she was feeling like a nervous girl.

Breathe.

It didn’t help that she was sitting at a desk with a glider propped up before her, something Miguel had conveniently had on hand, with a strange tablet creation and a stylus glaring up at her, something of the Architect’s personal objects, his explanation straightforward.

“It’s a craft tablet. I prefer paper, but it has its uses. It passively absorbs light, which is then converted into ink. If you want to save something to its internal memory, simply pulse some pneuma through it with the intent to save it. To clear the tablet, just give it a shake. I call it an Etch-it-Sketch.”

Strange name of the tablet aside, where the Architect had gotten the idea to draw in light as a writing source was beyond her, just further proof of his genius. Either way, it would be immensely helpful, given that she didn’t want to be flipping between sheets of paper in an effort to double-check her work, the theoretical work needed before she could apply the practical innovations.

No point dawdling.

Knowing the task she had been given, her stylus began to dance upon the tablet, first laying out the runes as she’d normally consider for both the current generation of glider that took advantage of Miguel’s skybound chanting, and the old generation that were closer to a fifty/fifty split between natural skybound materials and inscription.

The problem with the old model was that it was rather simple for what it did, at least as she now understood it. Using a very literal and often repetitive set of runes, it passively drew in small amounts of pneuma, and in doing so, ‘pushed’ against the wind that they sailed upon. The effect was rather small, but it could be augmented through actively pumping pneuma in oneself.

The modern generation of glider, composed of far more skybound materials – without any form of external input – already reduced the downward pull of the ground below. The runes used now were for nothing more than stabilization and turbulence reduction.

Innovating wouldn’t be that hard at this point. Still, Analissa figured ‘innovation’ wasn’t that simple, at least not to the Architect. In fact, she’d seen the Architect’s glider he’d made the other day. The inscription work had been immaculate, too immaculate in fact, to the point that she literally couldn’t understand most of the runes. The runes she did understand seemed to be placed nonsensically, which she now understood was not the case.

Something replicable, then.

The Grand Architect’s glider was a work of art, but they didn’t need works of art; they needed actual, reliably producible tools of function.

Space was also still a problem; there was only so much room for inscriptions upon the average glider.

What problems do I think need to be addressed?

Now, that was the question. As far as flight went, the average modern-generation glider was perfectly usable.

Well, monster attacks, for one. Then there is the issue of limited spacing, and finally, a larger range.

Range was perhaps the most long-term issue. Before their home had become more penned in by stronger monsters, there had been some groups of Air Riders that had managed to push past the bounds of the sky haven. One discovery they’d made was that outside the range of Sky Haven, their gliders lost effectiveness. Not a complete loss of functionality, but something about Sky Haven made flight easier to achieve, the gliders requiring extra pneuma to retain their usual properties.

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Spacing was simply a matter of literal lack of space; gliders were only so large. Their enhanced storage packs were a small fix, but they only went so far.

Finally, there were monster attacks. Gliders weren’t known for their offensive or defensive prowess. Miguel’s mega-gliders were a bit of a different story, but then they weren’t exactly mass producible to them.

Three distinct problems, with little crossover. Trying to solve one would likely leave little room to solve the others.

So how do I manage this?

She could always downsize the scope of problems, but she felt like that wasn’t enough to win the Grand Architect’s approval.

Think.

Tapping the stylus on the desk that the Architect had summoned out of thin air, Analissa found herself frowning as she went over her mental catalog of runes she knew.

There isn’t an answer.

Sure, reinterpreting runes based on what the Architect had explained could feasibly work, but that would require her to internalize those new meanings, it took a special mind to consider a new interpretation and already be in a state where they internally accepted it as truth, it wasn’t as simple as telling yourself something worked a certain way when you’d never considered it from that angle once before.

If there were a rune that specifically hit all three areas, then she’d be golden, but as far as she knew, there wasn’t. Perhaps the Architect had runes that would work in his mind, but again, she doubted that simply asking for the answer was the way to impress him and pass his trial.

A new rune entirely?

It was that blasphemous part of her mind that she had been giving too much oxygen to, the side that pushed her to more and more experimental thoughts. Trying to draft a new rune entirely was near the pinnacle of things not to do; they’d had sparingly few make that mistake in the past, and it had killed them.

But what if it works?

As far as Analissa understood, every rune currently used had been created by the Architect. Was it simply that he was the only one able to make runes? That seemed a more blasphemous thought than the voice telling her to push her limits. E.O.N., based on what had been gathered from their limited understanding of the grand existence, had never been one to favor exclusivity.

So, it must be possible. But can I be the one to manage that?

As Analissa drummed her fingers on the desk, giving far more energy and serious thought to the outrageous idea, she found herself slowly frowning.

Yes. I think I can. In hindsight, those who failed in their attempts to make runes in the past often were trying to make runes for things that likely already had associated runes based on what associates of theirs said. So, if I attempted my own rune, it would have to be genuinely new.

To create an entirely new rune, the best shot that Analissa could think of was by focusing on something likely outside the scope of what the Architect had thought about in the past.

Just outthink the Architect as if that isn’t also a blasphemous idea.

Giving the tablet a shake, Analissa began jotting down thoughts and ideas before shaking the tablet again with a scowl.

I’m still thinking about this the wrong way.

Spending some time trying to reconsider a way to address the three problem areas without the need for a new rune, Analissa crossed her arms, her scowl deepening further. She was glad that both Miguel and the Architect had made a point of not hovering, off to the side, discussing… whatever it was they were discussing, out of earshot.

Out of her earshot at least, given Miguel was tier seven and the Architect was tier eight, they would probably be able to hear anything she said without too much hassle.

Momentarily distracted, Analissa found herself grumbling under her breath. The Architect existing far above her wasn’t anything she saw a problem with; he was one of the Founders, beings who were most considered like some fashion of divinity or demigods.

But Miguel? They’d grown up together. Then there was Sam, who was also one of the honored eight and another tier seven. It chafed at her that her peers from her youth had stepped so solidly past her. Miguel was a weird case; he’d gone from dragging his feet every ascension to launching forward as soon as he’d evolved his vocation into what it currently was. Sam had always been ahead of the rest of them, probably because Sam was closest to Lady Trailblazer of the eight of them, who’d followed her path without getting himself killed like so many others who tried too hard to emulate her eminence.

Analissa’s eyebrow twitched for a moment at the memories before she suddenly froze.

Wait…. Wait, that’s it.

A rune that the Architect likely hadn’t considered, a rune that would be unique to their people, to their lived lives.

The Rune of the Vanguard…. Actually, no, bad idea. Trying to invoke everything she is sounds like the opposite problem of doing something already done, and more like taking a bite too big for my stomach.

Scaling back slightly, Analissa nodded to herself.

Yes. Yes, that might work.

As she began drawing on the tablet, Analissa let her subconscious take the reins, with impulsive thoughts guiding her hand as she sketched a symbol never before seen.

Trailblazer.

In her mind, the word had so much more meaning than the single basic definition. It was everything they expected of those who pushed the boundaries, could roll with the punches, survive any ordeal, and were always prepared. Unlike her momentary idea for a ‘Rune of the Vanguard,’ which would invoke far more significance than she was ready for, a Trailblazer was also a wider-reaching title, which would even out any potential strain.

Or so she hoped, otherwise her fears of dying without ever stepping past tier six would come true far sooner than she’d anticipated.

The rune ended up rather simplistic in design, looking like a blade of burning grass.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded to herself.

Well, now what- oh.

It seemed in the end, the intent to ‘finalize’ the new rune was all that was needed, a shimmer of sparks around the tablet. At the same moment, Analissa felt as if something was being rapidly yanked free from her, scouring her mind and body for the fuel needed to anchor the rune into reality. Gritting her teeth and holding her thoughts of the rune and what it meant to her firm, nearly forty-five seconds later, the feeling passed. Analissa slumped backward, sweat dripping from her body as she trembled, more exhausted than she could ever recall.

Oh, E.O.N. above. Now I have to actually figure out how to apply the rune to the glider, and what exactly the best method of-

Her thoughts were disrupted as suddenly something dropped on the desk in front of her, and her head groggily dropped back down from staring skyward.

“Not bad,” The Architect said, a smile plastered across his face. “Welcome to the club.”

“Huh?” Analissa asked, her mind feeling far more sluggish than was ordinary.

“Making a new rune draws from you. The more you have to offer, the less effect it has on you,” The Architect said as he looked her up and down before glancing at the rune on the tablet set to the side. “Interesting design. What exactly was the rune?”

“Trailblazer,” Analissa said, tongue feeling like it was plastered in mud.

“Trailblazer. Interesting. I’ve got some runes that have a similar idea. Still, clearly your understanding of the concept of a Trailblazer is significant enough to crystallize the concept as an actual, well, concept.”

Sluggish as Analissa’s mind felt, she could only nod, barely having registered anything he’d said.

“Anyway, for passing the trial, tadah.”

“I… passed? But…. I…. innovate.”

“Oh, I don’t actually care about the glider; it was just something that was an easy target of thought. Creating a rune more than qualifies as the sort of innovation I was hoping for.”

Letting her eyes slowly wander over to the item he’d dropped upon the desk, her eyes widen for a moment.

Tomes weren’t exactly common, though some had been gained as rewards from E.O.N. in the past, usually referenced as ‘incomplete tome of the Architect,’ for the usual subjects of Alchemy, blacksmithing, or even gem-crafting. The only incomplete tome that had never been encountered was any for inscription; indeed, knowledge was gained painstakingly slow, runes discovered usually in groups of five or less when they were given as rewards.

And now she felt like she understood why.

Because plopped onto the desk in front of Analissa was what very clearly was the thickest tome she’d ever seen in her life, a proper completed tome rather than the several pages that looked as if they’d been torn from ancient books and were still considered some of the most valuable items they’d ever gained, at least to the crafters of Sky Haven.

The complete tome was already impressive, but there was one other eye-popping thing about the tome in front of her.

It was writhing, opening, and closing like the gnashing maw of a predator.

“Sorry about that,” The Architect said with a chuckle as if it were a minor issue. “It’s only a little bit cursed.”