202 — Book 4, Chapter 46 — Past, Present, Future, Pt 4

Damien was dimly aware that the chamber he was in had gone silent. Many of Brightscale's professors and mages had left, either to investigate other parts of the temple, deal with the remaining Red Hunters, or simply to return to Brightscale. Not many were paying attention to him specifically—not even Cale, who was brooding distractedly near the pit. That was probably for the best.

The only one who was paying any attention to him was the Source of Vitality, who hovered over his shoulder and watched him curiously, not quite sure what he was trying to do. That was fine, as far as Damien was concerned. He had no intention of telling anyone his plan. He didn't... he couldn't get anyone's hopes up, for something like this.

Especially Cale.

"Do you plan to advance your Legacy now?" Vital asked. "I confess, I have been curious about the function of this Gift. Cale has told me a great deal about its capabilities."

"Something like that," Damien said.

And that much was true, at least. If he wanted to perform magic on this scale, he needed to make an advancement with his magic.

As things stood, he had acclimated to palewater the fastest of Cale's apprentices. His mana core had partially adapted to it, even, enough that he was passively producing palewater without needing the circulation exercises to purify his mana, though he still practiced them to accelerate the change.

The problem was the quality of his palewater. Akkau had not explained it in full, during his initial lecture on the nature of mana core evolution, but the process of moving from palewater to darkwood involved something called intent solidification. Palewater was mana fueled entirely by a mage's own intent, but intent was a tenuous, shifting thing, and only in knowing themselves could a mage turn it into something powerful and rigid.

It never happened all at once, of course. Intent solidification happened in stages, increasing the quality of the mage's palewater at each stage; Syphus and Leo had made it through the first stages of solidification, Syphus by acknowledging that it cared and Leo by confronting his feelings about his parents.

Damien suspected that Flia would reach that stage herself soon, if she hadn't already. The main source of her inner conflict now was the Grand Magus and what he had done to the Abyssal Ones she meant to save. No doubt she was doing that now, figuring out whatever grand magic was needed to put them back together.

That left only him.

If he was being honest with himself, there were a lot of things that still troubled him. He didn't know who his father was or what he was doing, for one thing. If what Vital had said about there always being two dreadshades in each realm was right, then his father had to still be alive somewhere. If he wasn't, a second dreadshade would have shown up by now.

But if his father was still alive, then what was he doing? Why hadn't he visited? Damien knew he'd left for a reason—knew he'd gone off to do something that had been terribly important—but no matter how hard he tried to reach for the memory, it stayed stubbornly sealed and impossible to grasp.

In some ways, knowing that he was most likely still alive was a comfort. In others, knowing that he was alive and that Damien had no way of reaching him... it hurt. And not knowing why hurt most of all, like an aching wound in his soul he had no way of repairing.

The Verdant Flame flickered between his palms, and Damien sighed softly, bringing it closer to his chest. For a moment he simply held it there, allowing himself to bask in its warmth.

That was one nice thing about the Flame. Damien's nature as a dreadshade meant he didn't feel temperature the way most others did. He could sense, in an abstract sort of way, when it was hot or cold, but he couldn't really feel either. The only two exceptions were that first basement in the Bitter Path that had imposed the feeling of bitter cold on him—

—and this. The Verdant Flame, which always felt warm and comforting, as if its fire warmed the soul directly. Damien wouldn't have been surprised if that was actually the case, even. In all his testing, the Verdant Flame had always been perfectly, pleasantly warm to anyone that felt it, no matter if they were an ice elemental or a dragon.

Damien allowed the comfort it emanated to steady his mind for a moment. He was a naturally anxious person, prone to letting his thoughts spiral into a loop. Now more than ever, he didn't want that to happen. He needed his mind to be clear.

He could do this.

He didn't need to resolve everything that bothered him in order to solidify his intent or to make progress with the Verdant Flame, nor was it truly a resolution that he needed. If that were true, then it would have been impossible for mages like Cale to ever make it to darkwood, let alone wyldfire. It wasn't that he needed to find his father or discover the origin of dreadshades.

What he needed was to be at peace with where he stood and what he wanted to do.

And that, Damien realized, was a far simpler matter. He knew the answer already—had known it for a long, long time, only the truth had been mired up in a tangle of regrets and wants. What did it matter why his father had left? He knew it had been important to them both. That was what he cared about, and as for what he wanted to do...

Well, he wanted to find his father. It was surprisingly simple, in the end, but it felt right.

Something within his core seemed to loosen, and the palewater within him began to flow more freely, responding to the shift in his intent. Damien let out a breath, feeling a tension he hadn't even known he carried leaving his shoulders. He had been so worried about the why that he had forgotten the simplest, most obvious answer.

It was the final piece he needed.

Meeting Vital had granted him clarity, in a way. It had started as a vague thought—he wanted to know who had created the Verdant Flame and why it had been created. He hadn't understood why until much, much later, during his days training in the Black Vault and talking to his friends.

Leo understood magic through knowledge. He dissected the world into things he understood and things he did not, and he studied every day to understand more about how all the pieces fit together.

Syphus understood magic through... Damien wasn't sure, actually. Syphus saw the world in a way that was fundamentally different from the rest of them. It liked force, but not an excess of it; it liked stone and stability. Perhaps it learned about magic by learning about itself, now that he thought about it.

Flia understood magic through nature. More than anyone else, she saw the way every creature and critter, magical and otherwise, intersected with the workings of the realms. Through that understanding, she could attune her magic in strange and wonderful ways, though Damien thought she hadn't realized yet how unusual her methods were.

And Damien understood magic through people. Through the people that cast and created spells, through what they felt when they cast their rituals, through the motivations that propelled them to make discoveries and innovations and art. He would never have understood the Verdant Flame if he had not met Vital. How could he? It was an ancient, mysterious magic, and all he knew about it was that it embodied the cycle of decay and life. What did that mean, really?

He understood now, having finally met the Source of Vitality.

Damien had known from the moment he first met the Monolith's eyes, and he was certain now that he had heard the story of the Verdant Flame.

Above all else, Vital was kind. He loved the realms and the lives within them, from the greatest of heroes to the smallest specks. He loved them so fiercely it burned them from within, so greatly it pained him when even the smallest soul died.

Vital had said none of this, of course, but he hadn't needed to. Damien paid attention to the way he moved and spoke, the way his eyes flickered when he told the story of how he had been summoned by the Scholars of the Green. He heard the regret and grief in the Monolith's voice, hidden as it was, for noticing the problem—saw the way he blamed himself for the souls that had been lost to the decay that consumed Yggdrasil's branches.

It was not a Monolith's duty to solve the problems of the realms. They upheld only the Law they embodied, and for Vital, his task was not the preservation of life so much as it was the proliferation of it. Yggdrasil itself was outside the scope of his duties. He had not needed to concern himself with the Scholars. He certainly hadn't needed to stay with them in their time of crisis, to lower himself to the status of realmborn so he could study the problem with them.

Stolen from NovelPhoenix, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Vital had spoken of it as though it were nothing, but Damien suspected that for a Monolith, squeezing themselves into a vessel small enough to walk the realms was akin to torture. He had endured that for two weeks and for who knew how long afterward, all for a solution that was kinder than it needed to be.

For Damien had seen that too, in the parts of the story that Vital had left out. Surely there had been other solutions. A way to cut the decay out, perhaps, or to reforge Yggdrasil's branches to be resistant to its power. Instead, the Monolith had seen the problem for what it was—had understood that Yggdrasil itself was crying out for help. He had searched for a solution that would not only help the people on its branches, but would also grant the World Tree peace.

That he had torn out a piece of his own heart to do so was no surprise, in light of that. Both he and Cale were surprisingly alike in this way. Damien didn't doubt that Cale had made similar sacrifices, had allowed himself to suffer in an effort to be kind.

It was no wonder, then, that the two had been so drawn to one another.

Damien gazed down at the Flame cradled between his hands. He had what he needed, now. Through his understanding of the Source of Vitality, he understood the Legacy that had been left to him, and he knew he could have asked for nothing better.

He called upon the Gift and stared for one last time at the description it had given the Verdant Flame. It felt strangely inadequate, now, true as it was.

[Legacy of the Verdant Flame, Level MAX] [Personal, Auric Passive]

You have comprehended the relationship between the primordial aspect of decay and the elemental aspect of fire. Primordial decay may now more easily be attuned to the formerly lost aspect of the Verdant Flame.

As a newly reforged mana aspect, the Verdant Flame is yours to explore, conferring the following bonuses:

This Legacy grants a single rank of Verdant Flame resonance.

This Legacy grants increased resonance acquisition for the decay and fire aspects.

This Legacy improves both decay and fire related attuning, spell acquisition, and spellcasting.

This Legacy can evolve, allowing you to return the Verdant Flame to its true form.

Still looking at the words scrawled across his vision, Damien fed to the Flame his understanding—now only of what it was, but of what it had been. Of why its ember had first been lit, and of everything he understood now, not only of the Flame but of all the lives and deaths that had kept it burning.

Perhaps it was no coincidence that so many species across the Great Realms now were fundamentally ageless. Long, long ago, when the World Tree first learned of death... had it been sad? Had it mourned, to know that lives would be lost, even if new life would spring in its wake?

The first dreadshade had said it herself: If you ever find a way to solve death and entropy forever, I'll be all for it. There's beauty in the infinite, just as there is in the finite.

Generation upon generation of dreadshades would have taught Yggdrasil their understanding of life and death, imbued into the Verdant Flame. In part they would have taught of necessity of death and how it prevented stagnation, but in part they would also have taught of the pain of a soul lost too soon—of children gone before their time; of blossoming love cut far too short; of death that came too slow or came too quickly, and what it left behind.

Perhaps Yggdrasil had taken that message to heart, and in its own strange way had lent its magic to help. Perhaps it had learned of death and thought: I do not want this. I wish for something better.

But he was speculating. Who truly knew what Yggdrasil had thought? Whatever it was and whatever it had done, it was long gone now; all that remained was the magic that had been created in a moment of kindness, to grant it an understanding of those that wandered its branches.

The Verdant Flame.

Resonance detected. Evolving [Legacy of the Verdant Flame]...

Integrating intent...

Unable to integrate. Extraction of physical material from the Verdant Flame exceeds current capabilities.

Unable to integrate. Extraction of physical material from the Verdant Flame exceeds disruption threshold for the Source of Magic.

Damien froze, staring at the Gift's words. But—but he'd done everything right, hadn't he? He understood, as deeply and truly as he could, the nature of the Verdant Flame. Had he not incorporated enough of his understanding of decay? He wouldn't have that understanding for decades or centuries yet! He needed to live long enough to see whole civilizations pass, and Vital...

Vital needed him now. The Great Realms themselves needed him back. How many mages had died because healing magic was no longer available? He had in front of him the font of all healing magic. It was by Vital's own Law that healing magic operated. The Source needed him, and the Realms needed him, and Cale needed him.

"Please," Damien whispered, though he knew the Gift would not hear him. The only mage he had ever known it to respond to was Cale.

And yet—

Calculating alternative...

Invoking [Sourcefire].

for a fraction of the whole is still the whole

and from the seed all that was may yet be regrown

[Legacy of the Verdant Flame] has evolved to [Guardian of the Verdant Flame].

[Guardian of the Verdant Flame, Level MAX] [Personal, Auric Passive]

You have comprehended the relationship between the primordial aspect of decay and the elemental aspect of fire. Primordial decay may now more easily be attuned to the formerly lost aspect of the Verdant Flame.

You have comprehended the source and origin of the Verdant Flame and reignited its spark. It recognizes you now as Guardian, and asks that you wield it to restore what has been lost.

The Verdant Flame is yours to explore, conferring the following bonuses:

Your status as Guardian grants five ranks of Verdant Flame resonance.

Your status as Guardian grants increased resonance acquisition for the decay and fire aspects.

Your status as Guardian improves both decay and fire related attuning, spell acquisition, and spellcasting.

You may extract the Heartstring of Vitality from the Verdant Flame without extinguishing it.

"Thank you," Damien whispered, closing his eyes. He was trembling, he realized, terrified that he would fail at this final step.

Vital knew, of course, that something had happened. He saw the change in Damien's core and felt the shift in his magic, and he seemed awed and worried all at once.

"Damien," Vital said. His voice was soft, and he glanced quickly behind him, as if to be certain that Cale was not watching. "What did you do? You did not... you did not sacrifice a piece of yourself for this magic, did you?"

"I did not," Damien assured him, though he trembled still. He had done this on impulse, on a single, vain hope. What if the Heartstrings did nothing? What if the Gift had helped him, only for him to have acquired nothing more than a dead piece of flesh? He should have asked before, perhaps, but that would have meant giving someone false hope, and he couldn't do that. "Will it help?"

Vital bowed his head. "It will not restore me to what I was," he said, and Damien felt his heart dropping, only Vital seemed to recognize this and held up a hand to stop the spiral that immediately threatened to consume him. "But it will help. What I am now is only a remnant. A memory made animate, you could say. I am not truly alive. But that piece of my heart I forged in my prime; it is the Law of Life, more than what I am and more than what remains of me."

He sighed softly, settling in front of Damien so that the broad expanse of his back blocked Cale from seeing what they were doing. "If you return that to me," he said, "I will still die. There will be no Monolith and no Law of Life. But I will be whole enough to enter the River as any of the realmborn might, and there will be enough of my Law to protect my soul from its currents. I will be cleansed of my memories, but I will stay whole.

"But the River is outside all space and time. I do not know where or when I will return, or what form I will take when it happens. It is likely that I will not see neither you nor Cale again, nor would I recognize you, even if I did. Perhaps there will be a sense of familiarity, or—" A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Perhaps a sense of frustration, when it comes to Cale. I cannot say."

"You're saying all this like you think I shouldn't give it back," Damien said quietly, and Vital nodded; he reached out, clasping Damien's hands in his own. There was a worrying sorrow in his eyes.

"If you do this, you do it only for me," he said. "If you burn it within the Flame... you may imbue it with some fraction of my Law, and begin to restore an ability to truly heal. I am sorry to ask you to make this choice. I wish—"

Damien shook his head. He thrust his hand into the Verdant Flame still burning before him, and from within he extracted a long, thin piece of flesh. The Heartstring, presumably, which were significantly... wetter than he had expected. He pressed it into a surprised Vital's hands.

"There was a guy we met just before this," he said, the words emerging surprisingly clear, though his mind swam with anxiety. "Valev-yetah. He was spouting all this stuff about the greater good and all the lives he'd save by sacrificing one realm."

Vital's expression flickered. "I am familiar with him."

"Well, I'm not going to do that," Damien said with some finality. "I'll find some other way to restore healing magic, simple as that. It's going to take me ages to restore it just from this, anyway. There's going to be a better way to do it."

"I... see." Vital stared at him for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "Then I thank you, Damien."

With that, he opened his mouth and swallowed the Heartstring whole.

Damien grimaced, wishing vaguely that he'd thought to look away. Still, he pushed away the mild discomfort, and reached out to give Vital a hug.

"I hope I see you again," he said.

"...I hope so, too. Who knows? Perhaps I have already. Time can be strange, in the River."