“A Star fell to warm embrace, Once more he rose to innovate, Completed yet incomplete, A desire still to constellate, Its comprehension not innate.” - The Astéri Conjecture, Stanza 2. As I came to, my mind was nothing but a dreary mess of incoherent thoughts and bright lights, unintelligible. I couldn’t feel anything below me. That was odd. No floor beneath my feet, nor a bed to my back. “Where am I?” I thought to myself, my skin burning like the sting of a thousand icy needles. Wind whipping through my hair and boring deep into my bones. I needed to understand, I had to know. So, I opened my eyes. My vision was flooded by stunning beacons of opalescent light, shining rays of hope nestled in amongst the vast canvas of a midnight sky. Innumerable sentinels gazing down from the heavens, each radiating warmth and hope from a million worlds away, telling me that everything would be alright. I was safe. As long as the stars were in sight, I would be okay. I was falling, that was clear, but why was I so calm? Surely by now my body would be wracked with fear and panic, but all I could feel was the cool embrace of peace. Even with the world streaking past me and the ground growing ever nearer, I couldn’t imagine somewhere I’d rather be. But here’s the thing about falling. It’s fleeting. As the ground looms ever closer, one eventuality becomes a stunning reality. The only thing left now- Was the Impact. --- ‘Aftermath’ The following collision created an ear-splitting boom that could be heard for miles around. Clouds parted, and a flare of blinding cerulean light bolted through the sky and plummeted into a field of shining white and blue flowers. Dirt and soil erupting into the air as his body cut deep into the earth with unparalleled ease, carving a fresh chasm into the landscape. This would be the first of many marks this mysterious boy would leave on this world. It was not long before people from a nearby village came to investigate the “falling star” they had witnessed, scouring every inch of the countryside in search of treasure, answers or magic. Many claimed they had found a ‘great artefact from the sky’, attempting to seek fame and renown through deception and sleight of hand; however it was a couple from the outskirts of town that discovered the truth. They were an unusual pair; a scholarly man unaccustomed to night-time excursions, and a veteran explorer completely in her element. The couple spent hours scouring through the field of asters on the edge of their estate, in hopes that they had found the answer to their hypotheses. As the man took another step into what was once solid ground, his foot slipped. His academically-inclined body acted its age and he slid down the edge of the freshly formed rift in the soil, landing hard. “That’s new,” he thought to himself; having been the primary caretaker of this field, he’d notice a gulf as large as this. His wife, having noticed her husband had tumbled into seemingly nothingness, followed him into the mysterious rift with the grace and precision befitting of an adventurer of her prestige. “Sweetheart, you should really look where you’re going. You’ve never been particularly spry,” she teased, dusting him off and helping him up from the disturbed ground. He smiled, kissing his wife gently on the cheek, “What would I do without you?” “Probably still be wasting away at a whiteboard in ‘The City of Progress’ writing your fancy numbers and kissing up to your old superiors.” “That’s true, but alas arcane theory never was their specialty,” he said, continuing his wife’s banter. They pushed ahead into the crater, the wife helping her bumbling husband through sections with uneven footing. As their little expedition neared its end, they noticed that the air grew warmer, and cerulean motes hovered in the air. An unusual display, magnificent even in such a world of magic and wonder. Sapphire cinders hung in the air, webs of light flickering in and out of existence between the miniscule embers. “They’re constellations,” the man whispered to himself, “Constellations long lost, and others possibly… those yet to exist.” He looked closer. Alenius. Ophiuchus. Erinyes. Cerberus. Even Anser was present. Then there were those he didn’t recognise, in sequences that couldn’t match any section of the chartered sky. “This is amazing. I must make a note of this as soon as we’re home! This proves my theories! Kalliope, are you seeing this?!” “Indeed I am, Ambros. Indeed I am.” Watching the ever shifting lights, lost at what cosmic magics had caused the fibres of reality to unravel enough to reveal stars yet to form. After Ambros had noted down sketches of the ‘nonexistent constellations’, they pressed on. Every inch they moved closer to the deepest pit of this wellspring of cosmic energy, Kalli grew tense. If the very existence of what she was about to find is causing reality itself to unravel and reveal untold secrets about the fundamentals of how the stars came to be, it must be dangerous. She drew her Xiphos, pushing into the innermost sanctum with Ambros in tow. And then she saw him. He lay there unconscious, nestled gently between two rock faces. A young man with light brown hair with streaks of blue. He couldn’t be much past his teens, early 20’s she guessed. Wrapped in a smouldering brown overcoat, a singed shirt far beyond repair, and wearing a pair of brown slacks which had seemingly shredded to tatters upon initial impact with the ground. Clutched tightly to his chest, a gem that defied all logic, a six pointed star with two ends curving outwards like crescent moons. Its lustre not that of a diamond, but of a starry sky encased within its gleaming surface. Despite the severe deterioration of his clothes, his wiry frame seemed undamaged by the grave fall he had just undertaken. He couldn’t be the source of all this, surely? He was just a boy, and if he had truly fallen from the sky with such force, he'd be nothing but a grease spot. But here he was, at the base of the destruction, untouched but clearly knocked out. It didn’t make sense. “Ambros, we’re taking him home,” she declared. “It would be cruel to leave him exposed to the elements. He’s just a boy.” Her husband, clearly in agreement, tucked away all his notes inside his jacket, and took his wife’s scabbard carefully. Kalliope, demonstrating the toned muscularity of an Expedition Captain, hoisted the unconscious young man out of his stone coffin and began the trek home. As the couple carried their newly acquired ward away from the chasm, the once vibrant constellations that made it their home slowly began to vanish, one by one, until the cave grew dark once more. --- ‘A Wake-up Call’ The following morning, the young man awoke to an unfamiliar smell, and it was inviting. A warm, hearty scent that permeated the air throughout his new surroundings. Surroundings. He took a moment to survey his new environment with curiosity. This was definitely not where he landed. He was lying in a bed. “That’s positive,” he muttered to himself. “If I’m in a bed, I’m far less likely to be in danger. I think.” He continued eyeing the room. It was pretty quaint. A small fireplace was at the foot of the bed, with various small pieces of metal strewn across it. Tools perhaps? Anyway, there were various shelves and worktops on each side of the room, with windows on either side of the bed. The windows overlooked a very familiar sight, which he couldn’t quite place, but the flowers looked pretty enough. He seemed to be within someone’s home, that was evident, but he wasn’t entirely sure how he had gotten there. He knew that his landing had been less than graceful, but he did not recall bursting through someone’s roof, and even if he had, there was no sign of entry through the ceiling. Though, he supposed, I don’t remember much of the impact, nor anything from before it- Before the young man could finish his thought, a friendly looking face pushed past the threshold of the doorway, and greeted him with a smile. “Good morning!” chirped the mysterious gentleman, as he stepped into the room. He was an older fellow, his flowing salt and pepper hair pushed back into a top knot, leaving a few stray to fall upon his olive cheek. “How’d you sleep, champ?” pushing for an answer from the boy sat gawping at him. “Oh- good morning… sir, I was- ah. I slept okay. Thank you,” still very much confused about the situation he found himself in. He took a moment to compose himself. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but where am I?” “We found you on our property,” a taller woman pushed behind the kind looking gentleman, her athletic physique towering over her husband in comparison. She rested a hand on the older man, “To put it quite bluntly, you were at the base of a crater after a mysterious light crashed into our floral garden,” she pointed to the window to their right, drawing the younger man’s attention to the familiar looking flowers. “Any insight you have to share on that?” Her suspicion laid bare. “No, I don’t,” he confessed. “ All I know is I awoke while falling, and lost consciousness as I hit the ground.” As the words exited his mouth, he realised that besides his brief descent, he could not remember anything. Who he was, his name, his past. It was all gone. His blood ran cold. She stood there reading his expression, contemplating what she had just heard, and then left, pursing her lips. “I apologise, Kalli has always been a little cold with new people. Especially those she meets through such… unique circumstances,” asserted the older gentleman. “My name is Ambros, I am the proprietor of thi-” “No you’re not, sweetheart” Kalliope asserted from a different room. “My beautiful wife, Kalli, is the proprietor of this lovely estate. I am merely her lowly servant-” Kalli interjected once more, “He is my husband, and he’s a damn good Arcanist while he’s at it, too.” Ambros looked at the young man and smirked, he whispered “See? She can be nice. Just have to let her warm up to you.” He giggled at Ambros’ mischief, as his stomach let out an enormous groan. “We should probably get you something to eat, we can save the conversation for after we’ve gotten some grub down you,” he said, helping the boy off the bed and guiding him from his temporary quarters, and into a room bedecked with various foodstuffs and utensils. It would be a chef’s dream to cook here, and he was going to eat his first meal in style. --- ‘What’s in a name?’ After a hearty meal prepared by the cheerful researcher, the trio sat around the table, priming themselves for what came next. “So,” Kalli began, “do you have a name we can address you by?” Her previous hostility easing slowly. “To be entirely honest, I don’t know. I know nothing of what happened last night, nor who I was before it.” “That is- less than ideal to be sure. It takes the legs out from under the vast majority of my lines of questioning.” she said, her voice dripping with disappointment. “But that’s okay, I’m sure something will come back to you eventually. Hel, you’ve got a completely fresh start. Very few can say the same,” the older gentleman added. The unnamed boy sat there quietly, trying to focus on what little he could remember. Nothing. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t draw upon a single memory from before his grand descent. “What if…” interjected Ambros, having noticed the young man’s growing uneasiness. Kalli shot a look of bewilderment directly at her husband, who was very much improvising by this point. “What if we gave you a name?” Snapping out of his malaise, the boy looked back at the older gentleman. “You’ve got a blank past, and a limitless future ahead of you,” Ambros continued. “You have no ties holding you back, and as such I think you should have a new name befitting your unique scenario.” “Honestly, I would appreciate that immensely.” Kalli, letting her compassionate side shine through more than she perhaps planned, announced “I have a suggestion.” The two men looked at the unexpectedly excited powerhouse across the table from them, awaiting her answer. “Erus,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “It’s a contraction of a long forgotten constellation. ‘Cerberus’. You fell from the sky, so it only feels fitting.” Erus. A simple name. 4 letters, but a clear tie to where he came from, and who he now was. “I love it,” Erus blurted out, leaving no time for it to settle. His heart swelling with joy, he stood up and continued, “Thank you. Your willingness to take me in and support me this morning really does mean the world to me.” His eyes began to water, the morning sun reflecting in the tears beginning to fall down his face. “I may not know who I am, but your unconditional kindness makes the pain of my unwilling nescience feel-” he took a breath, desperately trying to not catch on the lump in his throat. “-Bearable.” Ambros was stunned by the sudden flare of emotion from his ward, and went to rest a hand on him. Before his hand could reach him, his wife had already closed the distance between the two of them, and pulled Erus into her warm embrace. “Erus, you are most welcome. I know what it’s like to be without people to fall back on. It is not easy being alone, but Ambros and I refuse to let you be lost as we once were.” The floodgates were open. He could no longer hold back the feelings of helplessness that had been building since he awoke. The older gentleman felt an immense surge of joy. Not only had he witnessed his wife let down her walls, but something in his mind clicked into place. “I was right,” his mind whispered, ablaze with possibilities long since dormant. He stood from his seat at the table, and wrapped his arms around the overwhelmed young man and his beautiful wife. --- ‘A Point of Conjecture’ Erus spent that night once again in the Astéri estate. That night turned into a week, and that week became months. That is to say, Erus became a mainstay of the household, claiming the room he had been residing within on that fateful morning. He was happy. The Astéri household had welcomed him with open arms, and he was glad to have people he could learn from. Erus’ memories were still a blank slate, so he had to relearn a lot of the basics. He did however learn he had an affinity for mechanics, alongside the arcane, to Ambros’ delight. This fact led to the two of them spending a lot of their time together, working on projects where Erus’ understanding of artifice and Ambros’ passion of arcane theory could meld into wondrous inventions and seemingly impossible constructions. It was during one of these sessions that Erus finally asked something that had been on his mind the past few months. “You have such an advanced understanding of how magic works, and yet you don’t speak of what you do for work,” Erus began, toying with an incomplete mechanical fox with oversized ears. “Kalli is a world renowned adventurer, who has charted parts of the world thought to be myth. You have untold quantities of knowledge pertaining to the function and existence of magic itself, and yet you don’t seem to publish any of them. Why is that?” Ambros knew that this would come up eventually. It was true, all over their enormous workstation were his writings, strewn across the worktop and pinned to the walls. He had cracked some of the most complex known mysteries regarding arcane magic and had posed many of the theories that could further today’s current understanding of Runes. He sighed, placing his quill into its inkwell, “You raise an excellent point. To those who are unfamiliar with my past work, I would seem to be a researcher of much renown. A brilliant mind that could help lead us to a better age. However, you are missing a very important piece of information.” Erus sat in complete silence, awaiting his mentor’s next words. “A long time ago, I was a lecturer at the Gnosian Institute. The primary research centre of arcane theory, and magic. Anyone who desired a future in understanding Runes would spend their lives dreaming of attending even a single lecture. Many of the greatest minds of our time attended and taught there.” “Did something happen? Why don’t you still work there?” The older gentleman stood up, and spoke as he made his way towards a chest on the other side of the room. “Not long after Kalli and I first met, she presented me with a tome she had thrown together on her most recent expedition. Just an assortment of pages and other such curiosities. I, a lovesick fool, spent months studying it. I wanted to impress her by translating the thing, maybe make a world changing discovery or two.” He rolled his eyes, cringing at his younger self. He crouched down, producing a brazen key from his breast pocket. “Years passed, and we started courting. A wonderful time, really. She was a tough one to crack, but I figured out how to make her laugh eventually,” he joked, pushing the key into the lock and twisting until the aged mechanism clicked. He sat on the chest’s lid. “After we got married, I gave the tome one last read, you know, for sentiment’s sake. However, this time I noticed something. Kalli had given it to me because of the many Runes it contained, but somehow in all my readings I had missed one. One that covered an entire page, woven right into the paper itself. One I had not seen written elsewhere in the Institute’s library. That caught my attention,” he said, excitement starting to build. “I activated the Rune, making sure to provide enough energy for it to manifest its effect correctly, and I waited,” His voice now practically trembling. “It slowly collected its tithe, then BOOM! It erupted into life!” Ambros’ dark eyes glowed, shedding the years and returning to his youth. “From the yellowed parchment of the page a stunning display of colour and warmth burst forth, painting this very workshop with sparks of every conceivable colour! It was utterly wondrous!” Leaping off the chest, using a subtle spell to bathe the room in light. Erus was enraptured, it was as if his mentor had cast that magic on him. He needed to know more. “Now, young boy, you may think that was the important part, but the truly fascinating stuff is yet to come,” he continued, reaching into the box and pulling out a book. This beautiful tome was bound in stained blue leather, with its corners wrought in brass. An insignia of a compass overlaid upon a star glowed gently on the front cover. “As I recovered from the unexpected display, I took note of the scorch marks left on the floor. They were curious, and did not appear to be random at all. I came back the next day, and recorded them in this tome,” he waved the book in his hands. “And I realised that they weren’t burnt stone, but Runes in and of themselves.” Ambros leapt towards his protege, offering him the book. “They were a message, my boy! A message written within one of the fundamental building blocks of the universe! This was groundbreaking!” He exclaimed with all the enthusiasm befitting a breakthrough of this enormity. “I spent months translating it, asking Kalli to help me locate information in libraries across the world. I used every piece of knowledge on arcane theory, linguistics, and cryptography available at that time, to decipher this message. Then on one fateful evening, with my darling wife by my side, I finished it. My Astéri Conjecture.” Erus placed the fox down, took the book from the man’s outstretched hands, and opened to the marked page. Five lines of text greeted him, with a page of notes surrounding them. Written in the centre of that page in pristine handwriting, it read: A Star fell to warm embrace, Once more he rose to innovate, Completed yet incomplete, A desire still to constellate, Its comprehension not innate. - The Astéri Conjecture, Stanza 2. As Erus began to read, he felt a pang of familiarity. This first line. “A Star fell to warm embrace”. Something about it resonated with him, he just couldn’t place what. This was marked as the second stanza. As he attempted to piece together what this could mean for him, Ambros pressed on. “Kalli and I rejoiced, not entirely sure of what it was, but merely just excited that the fruits of our labour had finally paid off. After nearly an entire year of work, it was done.” he said, as he sat back in the chair he had once occupied. He picked up his quill, and began to complete the work he had started before his wondrous tale. “What happened next? How could a discovery of such enormity have resulted in you leaving the Institute?” Erus inquired, perplexed what could have resulted in the quiet life Ambros had now adopted. A deep melancholy manifested across the face of the gentleman, turning to look at him. “Kalli and I, we doubted it could have been just a poem. Having a poem be written into the fabric of reality did not make any sense, so we searched for higher meaning. We cross referenced the Conjecture with some older documents in our possession. Prophecies.” “And?” “It lined up. It told a story not in current record, its details vague as to not encourage deviation from fate, and it was revealed to someone through unlikely circumstances,” he looked at the boy; sadness clouding his heart. “And most importantly,” his expression grew darker. “It rhymed.” He smiled slightly, that look of deep sadness still very present in his eyes. Ambros relaxed a little more into himself, and continued writing as he spoke. “I assembled my findings, and brought them to the council. I was an honorary member, and it had been declared that should I make another contribution to the Archive, I’d have become their newest member. It was to be my moment of triumph.” He grew silent for a moment. “I need you to understand, Erus, the council is dedicated to progress. They did not care for flowery literature, or theories pertaining to future events. They were not one for prophecy, nor poetry. That is the work of a wizard, not an arcanist.” He looked pained as he said this, like he was reliving the heartbreak all over. His ward watched as he grew quiet, Ambros’ eyes now brimming with tears. “My magnum opus. The Astéri Conjecture. They rejected it. The council threw me out, calling my work a waste of their time. More worthy of wizards than real thinkers.” “Is something wrong?” Erus said, upon seeing his mentor turn to him with a look of desperate hope. He took a deep breath. Steeling himself for what could either make or break the relationship with the young man he grew to care for. “I had lost all hope in the Conjecture, Erus,” placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Years passed, and I became a shell of who I had once been; but when I saw the blue light streaking across the starry sky that night, I had to give it one last chance.” A pause. “Then we found you. You came into our life with as much burning passion as a fallen star. Kalliope lost so many of her comrades over the years adventuring, her heart slowly encasing itself in a tomb of ice, keeping me and her safe. Your warmth, compassion and willingness to put your utmost faith in us helped her finally let down those glacial walls. In but a single morning, you thawed her from years of cold hostility, and she hugged you.” Another pause. “Erus. You descended from the stars, and nestled into our family in one fell swoop. ‘A Star fell to warm embrace’? The Asteri Conjecture? I have reason to believe it’s about you.” The boy sat there in silence, processing what had just been said. His mind was a mess of rushing thoughts crashing into each other, like colliding tsunamis battling for dominance. That was why it seemed familiar. It was his story. If this was his story, what came nex- “Our family?” he stumbled, having just realised what the older gentleman had just said. Ambros smiled. “Our family, Erus. You’re an Astéri now. You’ve been here for a long while, and the house doesn’t feel like a home without you,” his heart about to leap out of his chest. “That is, if you think you’re up for the challenge, champ.” The new member of the Astéri family looked at his adoptive father. “Of course, I would.” --- ‘New Hopeful Horizons’ Once more, time escaped the youngest member of the Astéri family. His time with his new family was wonderful, but grew closer to its end with each passing day. Erus’ love of mechanics and the arcane grew at an exponential rate, creating constructs that began to push the boundary of what his father was able to teach; and weaving sequences of Runes his father had only dreamt of. He needed new tools, more space, and easier access to resources. He needed The Grand Archive of the Gnosian Institute. As a bird eventually outgrows its nest, he too had to finally spread his wings and establish a name for himself. His mother, Kalliope, bought a rooftop workshop in central Gnosis, ‘The City of Progress’. He was finally to venture to the city that had once scorned his father; and he was going to prove to the world that an Astéri isn’t someone to be trifled with. With a heavy heart, a tearful goodbye, and a promise to visit home regularly, he left the estate behind. Gnosis was a bustling city, even before he made it to the central city gates. Market stalls on every corner, thousands of people just like him who wanted to carve their place in the world selling their creations. He had a leg up, of course, coming from a wealthy family; having a renowned Explorer and a gifted Researcher as parents, but that only led him to become more determined. He would do the only thing he knew how to. Create. He would build a world where those less fortunate than himself would be able to have the same chance at greatness that he did. He continued on, pushing through the crowds in search of his new home. Through the enormous central city gates, which separated the outermost fringe from the more architecturally defined inner city. Past the grand waterways and skyports, from which much of the primary imports were delivered. Then finally past the vast architectural marvel that was the Grand Archive. It was beautiful. An enormous building similar to that of a cathedral, with ivory walls and a myriad of umber roofs overlapping upon its apex. Towers on three of its many corners, pushing its already imposing shape into the bustling skyline. A clock was etched into the front face of the building, its mechanisms exposed to the outside world. Every second punctuated with the click of a dozen colossal gears turning. He took in the view of the Archive, then turned to follow the last few bends towards his new home. Erus stepped into the picturesque plaza. In its centre, a gentle fountain, water trickling from its apex. A stunning sculpture of active clockwork and marble components, woven together in a now calcified dance. His gaze shifted from the artistry in the central square to the buildings encircling this small piece of the world. A fresh food market, a repair shop, and a quaint little coffee place on each corner, with the space in between punctuated with independent sellers trying to peddle their merchandise to those who walk past. He looked to one the furthest section of the square, past the families gazing at the fountain, to the building that would become his new home. Its front face was a corner that had been built flat, allowing for more foot traffic throughout the area, whilst allowing for its brass inlaid entryway to be a centrepiece. A small overhanging roof with umber tiling acted as an awning, protecting those who entered from the elements as they were attempting to unlock the door. Much like that of the Grand Archive, it had gears built directly into the wall itself, brazen mechanisms protected by an invisible wall of force, turning silently in a perpetual show of what made Gnosis so different to the rest of the world. A testament to its ingenuity, beauty and spiteful arrogance. The building appeared to be four floors, with a large penthouse obscured by a balcony overlooking the plaza below. He pulled out his key, and crossed the cobbled square to reach his destination. The door was larger than he expected, even from a hundred yards it didn’t seem to change in size. He pushed open the door, the ward recognising his presence, and made his way inside. A fairly empty room greeted him. A staircase leading to higher floors, a desk lacking its receptionist, and a variety of numbered lockers on his left. Nothing all too special, this was an apartment complex afterall, even well paid scholars don’t require inherent beauty in their entryways, he supposed. Carrying himself and his bags up the casual staircase, he passed at least a dozen rooms as he ascended the flights of stairs, each with increasingly extravagant crests on each doorway. Upon reaching the final floor, he came face to face with a familiar symbol. a compass overlaying a star. It glowed gently, welcoming him. The Astéri family crest. This was his new home. He pushed the key into the lock, completing the final leg of his journey, and walked through the threshold. It was an expansive open room, framed with workbenches identical to the ones from Ambros’ workshop. There were a couple doors within sight, in various sections of the room which weren’t taken up by the astounding quantity of available workspace. The enormous moving gears continued from the outside of the building along the walls of his new living space, moving with unwavering precision. Empty bookshelves were built into the wall behind the workbench to his left, following the ladder that led up to his second floor mezzanine balcony, which was backed by further shelving units. A mosaic of his family crest made up the flooring, with the centremost section of the compass being a circular waist-level platform with an empty central basin. The ceiling was incredibly high, helping the room feel grand in its entirety; a skylight allowing the sun to refract its golden rays upon the brass detailing upon every surface. The part which drew Erus’ attention most, however, was not the seemingly endless storage and workspaces, nor the gorgeous attention to detail, but the archway upon the furthest wall. Erus laid down his bags upon the nearest surface, and approached the arch. Its outermost edge was inlaid with stained glass, letting the evening sun shine through the sapphire panes. Just beyond its delicate beauty, lay the rounded balcony he’d seen from the plaza. It was much larger than it appeared from down below. The railing was brass, much like most things in Gnosis, but upon closer inspection had thousands of stars individually carved into its length. Thousands of stars and connecting lines travelling between them. The entire apartment’s craftsmanship was beyond anything he’d ever seen. He leant against the railings, spending a few moments looking out over the bustling Gnosian skyline. Golden hour’s resplendence filtering through the hundreds of architectural marvels, guiding his eyes to all the sights he’d walked past on his journey here. The Grand Archive, the skyports bustling with skyship deliveries, and waterways connecting the upper levels of the city to the outside world. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. “Finally alone” he whispered, “Alone at the top of the world.” Lost in what he saw, he began to reflect. He had spent the years bundled up in that workshop, being handed everything he needed to succeed by a family that loved him. He thought he had everything he could have ever wanted, but that gentle song still played in his heart. From what he could figure out, it was leading him somewhere. Where? He didn’t know, but it was time for a change of pace. So he moved away, venturing far from home to make a name for himself. He would make Ambros and Kalliope proud, and make sure the Institute knew just what an Astéri could do. As his mind dwelled on his past, it drifted to thoughts of the present. He was content, for now. ‘The City of Progress’, always said with such venom by Kalli, and yet? Erus thought he could get used to it here. He had been there for much more than a few moments at this stage, the sun dipping below the horizon, the sky fading from its vibrant vermillion glow. Removing his arms from the railing, he began to walk back inside. Runes flaring to life as he stepped inside, with the room filling with gentle mystic luminescence. He picked up a note he had previously not noticed, resting in the basin. He opened the folded piece of parchment, and it read: Welcome to Gnosis, I sent a couple of my old friends to make the apartment feel a little more like home for you, I hope you don’t mind, sweetheart. They fixed up the whole penthouse for you, affixing the crest to the door, the mosaic on the floor, and adding the work benches. Ambros spent a month copying down enough runes to make the whole place glow, he insisted. The lads were baffled by how to install the runes, but I’m sure they’ve gotten it sorted by the time you arrive. You should’ve seen the letters they sent, quite entertaining. You better come visit us regularly, I need to make sure my boy’s staying healthy (and to see how much you’ve grown). Stay safe, eat well, and live. We miss you, Erus. We love you, Mum & Dad x Through teary eyes he finished the note. The mosaic at his feet collecting a pool of falling emotion, his body unable to withhold the overflowing anguish. Beside the where the note once lay was a pendant, wrapped tightly in a beige piece of cloth. At its centre was a six pointed star with two ends curving outwards like crescent moons, backed by a variety of ever moving gears. As he closed the note, he wiped his eyes, and turned to collect his bags. It was time to unpack his bags. --- ‘Words of Power’ Erus walked past the young receptionist, as he had done many times before, flashing her a smile as he shakily carried the extensive pile of books toward the stairs. “The usual, Mr Astéri?” she chirped, her singsong voice lifting his mildly ambivalent mood. “Indeed it is, Lyssa. Another day, another trip to the Archive,” he said as he desperately attempted to balance half a dozen books in his grip. Lyssa stood from behind her desk “Would you like some help with that, sir?” Evident concern for both the man and tomes alike. “No no, I’m all good thank you. No need to worry about me,” he uttered between poorly hidden grunts of exertion. “I best be off though, despite my immense strength and oozing charisma, there’s only so long I can pretend I can hold these.” The lady smirked at him, and watched as he proceeded up the stairs slowly, nearly dropping half of his precious cargo. She shouted up after him “You had a delivery come in while you were out, I put it on the central countertop for you!” “Thank yo-” Erus walked into the wall at the top of the first flight of stairs, dropping the multitude of tomes and the research papers within, scattering them all over the tiled floor. He heard the receptionist giggle to herself, then picked himself up and continued to his apartment. The door unlocked with a click as he drew near, pushing open the familiar door using his hip and stumbling into his home. Where there were once clear spaces and immaculate walls were now hundreds of tools and their associated projects scattered across the enormous workspace, with blueprints of incomplete clockwork marvels spread messily beneath. The bookshelves all full to the brim with tomes and books containing untold secrets, whether it be magical or mechanical. A once bare room had become a bastion of progress, and it was now Erus’ home. The central countertop which once bore an empty basin had been converted to house a grand brass construct. Six rings inscribed with a myriad of runes lay inert atop the stone, with a small brazen pillar rising from the deepest part of the surface. It glowed gently as Erus pushed his way past the doorway. He had spent many months on this wonder of artifice, and today it may finally bear the fruits of his labour. He walked to an empty section of his workstation to his right, and swiped his tools to the side with his sleeve. He threw his coat over his chair, and began the last piece of research for what he hoped would be a turning point in his career. Erus had been theorising for a long time about the strange crystal he wore upon his neck. Ambros had said it was found on him when they first took him home, which was a red flag. All he had prior to that had been the tattered clothes he wore when he first descended, so having a strange glowing rock lacked sensibility. He also mentioned that where he had fallen was full of mysterious symbols, seemingly constellations which had long since faded, and many which his father had theorised would form in centuries to come. These were both strange, but there was a third realisation which had occurred to the young artificer; the inner dimensions of the crystal were not possible within known physics. Peering within it was more akin to looking through a portal to a micro universe. He continued to flip through the tomes he had acquired. If the pendant upon his neck was not bound by the confines of this reality, surely he could find some way to use it to power the device behind him. Hours passed. Tome after tome discarded as the sun set and the lights flickered on, bathing the office in a soft glow. Until he finally found it. A set of runes that he needed to complete the sequence: Hold. Distribute. Complete. He pushed the desk hard, his chair gliding to the central basin once more. Grabbing the engraving set he’d left from the previous night’s work, he began inlaying the final words into the bronze podium. It had to be perfect, and he would make it so. He had to. The sun had now dipped far below the Gnosian horizon, but Erus had finished the runic sequence. A sensation of relief and anticipation washed over him, tightening his chest. Months of work had been invested in this, and gods did he not want it to go wrong. “There’s no point in sitting and waiting,” he whispered to himself. “If I’m going to test it, now is the time.” He swept the tools up and deposited them in an empty space upon the worktop beside him, gently moving the chair aside to ensure it didn’t get damaged if anything went wrong. Removing the pendant from around his neck, he held it in his hands. The anticipation was killing him. He stared at his invention with bated breath. A step forward. The runes upon the brazen podium begin to glow. Another step. That gentle glow grew in intensity, the symbols upon the outermost rings attempting to collect a tithe, but their incomplete nature rendered them inert. Pause. A sequence containing hundreds of runes, the collective requiring a tithe so large that if this didn’t work, it would kill him. He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Please don’t blow up,” he joked, without an audience. Opening his eyes, he released the crystal from his grip. The pendant didn’t drop. Its cerulean light was being drawn into the central podium like smoke in the wind. The crystal drifted slowly towards the apex of the podium; Hold. Light emanated from its impossible interior as the first rune flared to life. The crystal held its position unwaveringly, locked in place by an unseen wall of force. Distribute. The second symbol flared to life with a keen intensity. The light from the crystal went from a gentle flow to an intense crashing wave of energy being funnelled into the rings encircling the basin. The tithe being pushed into the inert runes, attempting to will them to life. Complete. The third and final of the primary runes scorched into existence, crackling with power. Sparks flared across the surfaces of the podium and rings, etching the missing sections of each rune with volcanic force. Hundreds of tiny glyphs sating their now rampant hunger for energy. Once dormant rings of bronze rose from their stone casing with unfaltering grace. Gentle, yet guided by an immense unknowable force. As they aligned with their newfound wellspring of power, they ceased their ascent, and began rotating around an invisible central axis. Each ring moving independently in different directions, forming an ever shifting sphere out of the rings. As the rings began to turn, Erus realised a flaw with his design. The central podium did not account for rings attempting to pass through it. He braced himself for a cataclysmic failure, and lunged forward to remove the pendant. His hand approached the threshold at the moment of impact. The bronze pillar’s base shattered like glass, light spilling out with the intensity of a concentrated supernova. Shards of metal rupturing in all directions in slow motion; tiny spears threatening to breach the very same threshold Erus’ palm approached. Time held still. The runes burned bright once more. Hold. The brazen shrapnel ceased its explosive crusade, as if time itself had become frozen. Distribute. The crystal bathed the fragment in its unearthly splendour, the metal drinking in its essence. In the midst of that maelstrom of impossibility, the shards crackled with pure energy. Complete. A second great flash of light erupted from the epicentre of the collision, then the shrapnel slammed back in on itself. A wall of force discharged from the contraption, threatening to knock Erus down. He fought to keep his footing, losing ground but ultimately staying upright. The artificer looked up from behind the hand he used to shield his eyes, expecting the worst. He did not expect to see the machine still perfectly intact, the rings having cleaved their way through the central cradle, yet it remained locked in place. Each and every symbol glowing gently with untold power coursing through. He’d done it. Erus looked upon his armillary sphere, gazing at the gentle flow of energy streaming from his pendant into the hundreds of symbols inscribed on each ring. It was nothing short of a miracle he’d not been scorched to cinders, or drained of his life force. Rune tithes are a serious business. Within that basin that lay beneath the levitating apparatus was what became of the shards. No longer were they small fragments of bronze, but a collection of compact glowing orbs. They were each no larger than an inch in diameter, with a shining blue lustre not dissimilar from the crystal that seemingly catalysed their change. Erus reached beneath the armillary, and grabbed the foreign objects. He looked closely at them, noting their ‘larger on the inside’ appearance, and started to place them somewhere less magically volatile. Before moving away, he took another moment to inspect his newest creation. Truly his greatest creation, and a confirmation of a major theory he’d had for months. His pendant wasn’t bound by normal laws of reality, and in doing so was a seemingly enormous power source. Three runes could be an issue for any established magical battery, but he had just found a way to power three hundred and sixty three, and it was still working without issue. Erus’ mind wandered a little longer as he sat at his chair once more; debating the things this could mean for his future research. Whilst he was busy theory crafting, his eyes caught onto something intriguing. The orbs in his palm were letting off the same smoky emission as the crystal, and his desk light seemingly shone much brighter in their presence. “I’ve made rune batteries,” he whispered to himself, staring at the blue wonders in his hand. “But what’s the upper limit here?” He had an idea. Pulling open a drawer at his side, he searched through its myriad contents until he found something he’d been having some trouble figuring out how to make work. A small automaton he’d been toying with as a passion project not long after his parents first took him in. The young man pulled it out from the clutter. A small fox, no larger than 8 inches long, with oversized ears and a small frame. He couldn’t recall what exactly the breed he based it off of was, but it was adorable. Even after 5 years of working on this construct, he couldn’t quite figure out how to get his fingers within the inner workings of it to engrave the runes. It was a logistical nightmare, but Erus refused to throw it out. He knew he could make it work, and so this ‘miracle battery’ may be the solution he was searching for. He lay the little fox upon the desk, and stared at it for a moment. “Today may be the day you finally get to move, little buddy,” he muttered under his breath, inscribing a single symbol. “Wish me luck.” The ‘miracle battery’ in hand, he pushed it against the little fox’s chest, directly against the insignia he’d left against the bronze chassis. Erus knew it didn’t mean anything, but he did it anyway. The orb’s luminescence became fluid once more, pushing its way through the nooks of the casing and flowing throughout. Light shone from beneath the battery, as it sank into the small automaton’s exterior, embedding itself. A rune blazed its way into Erus’ mind, a monolith of unfiltered truth. He did not know this rune, and yet he knew what it read: Life. He looked down upon his passion project, it lay upon the desk after he’d dropped it during this unexpected revelation. Nothing different. Not every plan goes perfectly, and it appeared this was no different. A gentle pain resided within his skull, and he felt slightly nauseous. He didn’t recall fully, but it was likely something to do with the battery potentially being less potent than the seemingly endless supply residing within the armillary. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. It had been a long day, he needed to get some rest. He could make notes in the morning. A series of clicks. The creaking of metal warping, and a couple of small taps. “Probably just the armillary,” he thought to himself as he removed his hands from his eyes. His gaze was met by a delicate little fox staring up at him, eyes aglow with the sapphire radiance of the runes throughout, its body stood up and showing evident signs of function. He was stunned. The fox worked. Years of work to make such a small toy move. He laughed at his fortune, utterly astounded by the sheer unlikelihood of this all taking place within the same day. Something he expected even less was the fox to approach his arm, and attempt to climb it. Dumbfounded, he allowed it to happen, and the construct made its way to his shoulder with catlike agility. It sat there, and nuzzled into Erus’ cheek. The construct wasn’t supposed to be able to do all this. He’d only intended for it to be able to wander around his workshop, and act as a paperweight, how in Hel had it manifested what could only be described as emotion? “Hey there, bud,” he scratched the automata behind his ears. “I’ve had a really long day, if I give you the tour in the morning, would you be interested in settling in for the night?” It gave a brief nod and curled up on his shoulder. Erus grabbed his coat, a nearby slab of wood off his workstation and fashioned them into a makeshift bed for his newfound companion. “I think I’m gonna call you Volpi.” --- “A Moment of Reflection” It’d been months since his success creating the Stellar Battery, which is what he had dubbed his armillary sphere. A suitably eccentric name for something which had drastically outgrown its original purpose. Built to help him prove a theory, with the added benefit of helping him chart stars and their orbits, it had shown to output enough energy to power his entire workshop. Not only that, it had been the catalyst in the creation of the Heliocells, the miracle batteries that seemingly brought life to anything they touch. Erus sat with his head against the desk. He’d been awake for 72 hours, and still no progress. He could feel Volpi gazing at him, and he was afraid that he was going to disappoint his mechanical companion. He’d been spending many sleepless nights on this new project, but progress had stalled. Weeks spent scouring through his old notes, the Archive’s tomes on automata, and grabbing hot drinks from his favourite coffee place on the corner of the plaza. He didn’t mind that last part particularly, it gave him the chance to see the cute barista who worked the closing shift. She made his coffee just how he liked it, and would only slightly misspell his name. Volpi was Erus’ favourite creation to date, but he couldn’t help wanting to replicate what he’d done. Not for commercial success, but to give his vulpine buddy a friend. It had been going well for the first couple weeks, but all of a sudden progress halted. It was no fault of his own, but unlike with Volpi where he was unable to add many of the details due to such a small chassis, this new automaton had a bit of a weight issue. Bronze and brass are the best materials for artifice due to a high affinity for arcane magics, but brass was not sturdy enough for what Erus needed to achieve, while bronze was too heavy. This new automaton was not a small fox. It was to be a wolf, to act as a guard dog for his workshop, and a protector for the smaller construct. Gears and runes weren’t an issue here. Erus knew how to utilise both much more efficiently than many of his peers. The crux here was figuring out how to reduce weight without diminishing structural integrity or affinity for magic. Unfortunately this was something outside of his expertise, and he didn’t have anyone he could ask. He looked up at the unmoving body of the lupine construct, staring daggers into the bronze chassis. Frustration built within his chest, burning hotter than fire and running deeper than an abyss. He shoved himself away from his desk, a sigh escaping his lips as he stood up. Volpi recoiled and ran after the artificer, their tiny legs sprinting as fast as they could muster. Their ears pushed backwards as they pursued their creator, jumping down from the desk using his chair as a step. Continuing out onto his balcony, his anger at himself grew with each passing moment. Thousands of questions flooding in, but being caught on one inescapable line of inquiry. He leant on the railing’s edge, his mind was a flurry of memories, old and new, sending him wild. It was infuriating. Even with a roof over his head, and a bed to his back, he couldn’t escape this deep rooted desire to know who he was before the fall. “Who am I?” he screeched into the night, his heart yearning to know who he was once. Wind whipping through his hair and cutting deep into his bones. Why was he so desperate? It was long gone. Then, Erus opened his eyes. His vision was flooded once again by that ever-beautiful opalescent light. Those shining rays of hope nestled in amongst the vast canvas of a midnight sky. This time something was different. That night when he descended from the sky, the stars were a symbol of safety and brought him solace. Now? Those same stars called to him, inviting him to their skyward sanctum. He felt their pull. As long as the stars were in sight, Erus would hear their siren song. He whispered to himself. “Here’s the thing about falling. It’s fleeting. As the sky felt ever further, another eventuality became my reality. The only thing left now- Is my Ascent.”