Mythshaper-Chapter 56: Fractal Soul

Ashlyn

Arilyn jolted awake with a shrill cry, his body jerking upright. Quickly, Ashlyn dropped to her knees next to him and caught him before he could collapse back.

Her son’s heart pounded, the thumping too loud in her ears. Still catching his breath, he forced himself to stand, acting as if it was nothing, perhaps to reassure her. Even though he barely showed any outward signs of anxiety, Ashlyn knew too much about the horrors of the world to let him pretend it was nothing.

She waited, brushing her palm on his head slowly, as Arilyn went through the breathing exercise she had taught him.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Um, sorry,” he mumbled, a tad apprehensive. “Was investing the point into Weight. I’m fine. The nightmare was a bit...”

His gaze turned to the Dreamweaver. Magus Prisca stood up, her expression as severe as a winter morning.

"Nayan wept," the Dreamweaver swore, closing her eyes. Her left eye twitched as she clutched the armrest of a chair and sank into it.

"What was it this time?" Jinn asked, coming to stand beside them, a crease forming between his brows.

"A battlefield," Arilyn muttered. "It was a battlefield, all dark, like the first two times, but..."

He seemed to be missing words to describe it, or was still too disoriented to put them into words.

"But your boy was swarmed by a pack of Devourers," Prisca answered for him. "Tor’s balls, I didn’t think I’d see those grotesque things again."

“Blight and ashes!” Jinn cursed, his expression growing solemn. He stooped down to meet their son’s gaze.

“I’m alright,” Arilyn said defensively before Jinn could even say anything.

Jinn shook his head, placing a reassuring palm on his shoulder. “I bear too many scars from those godless things to believe you, son."

Arilyn looked like he wanted to argue back, but the graveness in Jinn’s expression faltered him.

Ashlyn knew what Jinn was worried about. These struggles with those unholy monsters took more than just a physical toll. Although Arilyn came out of the nightmare physically unscathed—bless the Aether for it—an ordeal involving those forsaken creatures changes people. She didn’t have as much experience fighting them as Jinn did, but the little she had told her that those creatures were not something any child should have to fight.

“Perhaps you want to rest for some time,” suggested Master Kaius.

“Yeah, we can discuss your experience later, Pumpkin.”

Arilyn wrestled with the decision before moving to take a seat near the window, the sinking sun illuminating his face in a shade of gold and yellow.

Ultimately, the elderly woman was the first to run out of patience.

“His situation seems far trickier than I initially imagined,” she said, sighing. “And I believed after living so long nothing would surprise me anymore.”

Since nobody interjected with any words, she continued, "Not only did it take me longer than usual to enter his dream, it felt like pulling against a mountain when I tried to yank him out of it."

"What does all that imply?" Ashlyn asked.

Prisca narrowed her eyes, her gaze flickering to Arilyn.

"Hard to say," she admitted. "It’s not entirely unheard of to find oneself in the dream realm, to Ishtar itself, but this is the first time I’ve heard of it happening during the formation of an Aether Root. If I were any younger, I would have been splitting my hair trying to find what anchored him to those nightmares."

She hesitated for a moment. "My new pupil, the girl I talked about, had trouble with dreams as well, but in her case, she had Dream Essence and could channel her dreams or even ward against them after a few lessons."

Her eyes returned to Arilyn.

"As for your boy, Ashlyn… Only Nayan knows why, but it would have made more sense if he had Dream Essence, too. Can you folks not think of anything that could explain or even hint at something? Any unforeseen accident when he was younger? Or any unholy adventure while the boy was in your womb?"

Ashlyn exchanged a look with Jinn and began explaining all the things that had gone wrong during Arilyn’s birth. There was no other accident besides his birth being in one of the most ungodly places. They had to pass through a couple of uncategorised waygates on their way, on top of the sudden rift. . .

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Everyone listened attentively; even Arilyn had his ears trained on her voice.

“You guys pick awful places to give birth,” muttered Magus Prisca, whereas Master Kaius remained uncharacteristically silent.

“Unfortunately, none of that says anything relating to Ishtar,” the grey-haired woman said. "Tell me about his gift again. Leave nothing out if you can."

Finding her not replying, the older woman scoffed, “You can put a non-disclosure agreement on the papers if you like. Now get on with it."

Ashlyn sucked in a frigid breath and explained what little she understood about Fractal Soul. It helped that there wasn’t much they understood about it to tell her.

She shouldn’t be happy about the fact, but Ashlyn couldn’t explain why she had an uncharacteristic fear of others finding out about Arilyn's GIft. Both she and Jinn were of the Fabled class and would spare no means if someone tried to manipulate him or attempt something shady, and yet, her breath hitched when she uttered the name of the gift.

"Wait, did you say Fractal Soul?" The Dreamweaver perked up, a rare flash of excitement crawling up her otherwise dry exterior.

"I suppose that gives us some explanation," Master Kaius mused, his voice somewhat disturbed. "Though I can’t be certain, we all can agree that soul-based gifts are notoriously mysterious. You can never really know their real nature from their initial effect.

"I reckon that fractal sight of his is only an auxiliary ability. The real ability, the primary one, is still under wraps."

Ashlyn had suspected as much, yet the thought unsettled her. If his true gift only thrust him into nightmares, what kind of gift was it?

Her own gift was essence-based, a mere refining ability that advanced into something greater when she reached Fabled Class. And yet, Construct was thoroughly predictable in what it enabled her to do. They had no such assurance for Fractal Soul.

"For once, I agree with this irate old man," Prisca muttered. "It’s unfortunate that we have no way of appraising soul gifts. Any half-decent seer can identify most essence-based gifts, but soul abilities elude even Nayan herself.” She touched her forehead in a prayer, perhaps thinking the truth too close to blasphemy to her deity.

“Alas!” Master Kaius muttered, gazing at Arilyn. “If only I could tell whether it’s fortunate or a misfortune before you unlock your gift completely.”

"It makes me wonder," Magus Prisca said with a hint of suspicion, "what does higher-dimensional geometry have to do with the soul?"

That was a question that had kept Ashlyn awake at night since she had first learned of it from Arilyn. Her studies did include fourth-dimensional geometry, but she couldn't make a connection between that and Fractal Sight. She turned to the other elderly figure, hoping for insight. After all, he had inherited a soul-based gift himself.

But Master Kaius chose to keep his thoughts to himself. Something about it irked him, however. Perhaps he saw himself in Arilyn. Or rather, saw Nero... and his regret of not being able to help the boy in need.

"For now, I’ll say these recurring dreams involve his gift," said the expert, scratching the bridge of her nose. "Or it could be a snide trick from the Lord of Desire."

Ashlyn’s heart skipped a beat.

"A fat chance of that," Prisca shook her head. "At the very least, I would have sensed any malicious interference if that were the case."

"All that still doesn’t answer what we can do about it," Jinn interjected, impatience creeping into his tone that they were all glossing over his gift, not the problem at hand. "Malicious intent or not, can we all agree these nightmares are not something a child should have to tussle with?"

Everyone was on the same page with him. Only Arilyn looked like he wanted to object, but he kept his peace for the time being.

Prisca sighed. "Since we don’t know the root of the problem, we can’t fix it completely." She hesitated. "I would have liked to explore his dreams further, but my other commitments won’t allow me to be here for his every advancement."

Prisca turned to Ashlyn. "Say… by any chance, are you willing to leave this place and go somewhere better? Like Nalanda, for example? If you did, I could check on him regularly during his advancements. For all its nightmarish nature, that dream was thoroughly intricate. Perhaps they hold the answer to the very nature of Ishtar, and could help us solve--"

"Magus Prisca!" Ashlyn cocked her head, her eyes narrowing at the older woman. "I say this with all due respect," she said, making sure her voice was as cold as Vashar’s winter. "My son is not some little project for you to study. I consulted you and even agreed upon a deal I rather not take only for his well-being, not for you to pick him apart to satiate your curiosity."

"That’s not what I meant... Gods, as a scholar yourself, I thought you'd understand what I'm getting to"

Ashlyn’s aura flared outward, telling her exactly her stand on it.

The Dreamweaver narrowed her eyes, reclining back in her seat. "Never mind. I suppose I can help him ward from those dreams. If he had Dream Essence, I could’ve taught him Dream Warding in a week or two. Unfortunately, it looks like I’ll have to barter away a good old relic of mine. You know how hard those are to come by, especially one based on the concept of Dream."

"I’ll pay for it fairly," Ashlyn said firmly.

Prisca smirked. "I have no doubt you will."

With that, a small white stone bell manifested in her palm, unmarred by even a smear or scratches, sizzling with rich dream and dusk essence.

"It’ll be a pain to unwind my bindings on it," Prisca muttered, her gaze flickering to Ashlyn. "Might take me a bit of time. Why don’t you put that time to use and draw up the agreement for us to sign? I hate all these bureaucratic businesses they are implementing. All it does is waste time, I tell you. Gods, I stopped paying attention to them half a century ago."

Ashlyn didn’t answer, her eyes drawn to the relic. It wasn’t the first time she had seen one. No, she had owned a couple at one point and had worked on dozens at the peak of her career. She also knew that just ogling it was hardly enough to appraise the object.

Her gift, Construct, allowed her to identify the very concept of its craft, but all of Prisca’s bindings on it restricted her. All she could make out was a vague image of the inner weave, which should hold sixty-four essence threads at best, and a warding enchantment.

"And I thought you, of all people, would be used to the glamour of a relic," chuckled the older woman. "Now, if you’re done with your inspection, can you go about making the arrangement that will allow me to lend it to you? You already know what I’ll need in return."

__________