Terminus: Acquisition Of A Sorcerous Grimoire

[13:14] The youth once again enters the shrine made to the patron of the isle. Not with any news, declarations, or offerings this time around. Simply carrying the grimoire of sorcery with him that had been passed down by the knight of Caethir.

"Apologies for the intrusion- Maledictus, and present clergy..." They'd offer following their entry with a polite bow to those present

"However, after due consideration... I have decided, it would be best to study this text amidst the company of others. The previous owner, gave a stern warning of its contents. And I predict, if it is somehow a hazard to read... That it be in the presence of those capable and trusted amidst Antefinem to dispel any potential curse or other affliction." A matter of precaution. But as well? "And of course, should it be safe, its contents shall be shared verbally for the Clergy, for the patron to hear in turn."

They tilt their head down to the tome they held now. The ornate cover making them ponder for just a moment, at what kind of extravagant the author must have been, to make something so... Gaudy.

Not that it mattered much, when the author was one capable of defying all odds, and attaining a power that was long assumed to belong only to the divines.

"Of course- That is, so long as there are no qualms with such-"
(Euxenos Krima)
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[13:31] A Cognito Hazard.
Naturally, this would lead those within proximity to concern -- however, within this room? Was the most potent power across the isle.
Whatever danger that could've been conjured by delving into the depths of this grimoire was likely to be counter-able by the Patron -- should it prove troublesome enough.

After all, the contents of such was something it was greatly interested in...
Euxenos' endeavor to undertake its lessons, was merely a step in the right direction for both him and itself.
''Worry not, my child...''
The Maledictus kept to their meditative stance, listening in twain with the clergy members.

''The Patron sees and hears the thoughts of all that enter his shrine... So long as your mind is open to him, so too, shall he hear the words read within the mind. Consider us, an extension of his Will, until the fateful day that he shall find physical restoration and walk amongst us once more.''
A soft half-smile was offered with a fluid nod.
''Go on... Proceed.''
(Etheric Presence)
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[13:46] A cognito hazard was indeed what the youth had come to expect of the book based on the myriad warnings. But with the encouragement of the Maledictus on the matter? They gave a nod, before stepping away from the other. Not wanting them in visual range of the pages, if the worst came to be true.

Euxenos' thumb press at the edge of the gold-trimmed grimoire, and with a wince, opened to the first page- Looking away at first, before slowly gazing down at the text.

Nothing.

There appeared to have been no such need for concern at all, at the moment. As no overwhelming flow of power unleashed from the book to curse the reader. Nor did it provide some innate, unseen force onto the mind. It was, merely, a tome, through and through.

Noting this, a sigh of relief is taken, before they recite the words on this first page.

"Chapter One... An Introduction.

The world, and magic by nature, are fundamentally flawed. Magus dominated society by strength. And for reach one of them, there are hundreds of unseen mend and women that build the cities, work the mines, and carry out the necessary work. These magi, that admire the beauty of the heavens, are then compelled to acts of daily worship and obedience, fulfilling not their own inner will and ambitions... But that of the pantheon, and their opposing devils. Dedication to these unseen spirits that people claim as gods strips a person of their character, acting in accordance to what they believe is the will of another, rather than their own heart's passions... And Sorcery, in turn... Is in effect, a means of escaping those binding chains..."

The introductory paragraph read aloud, they hum slowly, and then scratch their head. To the ears of many- Perhaps even the clergy present? These words would be a vile blasphemy, no matter the truth to them. As it slighted the very concept of higher power, in favor of giving it to the hands of those that should, by all doctrines, be beneath the divine in the status quo of common Faiths.

"Hmm... I can gather... Ilumitar did not care for any Patron... But all the same, wanted the power they wielded- To grasp it, and wrench it free from a, till now, endless age of their unquestioned supremacy... Hard to tell if they were intending to be noble with the act- Or merely craving power for himself and his own..."
(Euxenos Krima)
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[14:00] No explosions yet...
No unveiling of spells nor traps imbued upon the front page being flipped open. Good progress so far...

The text was read, and ears received it...
The minds recounted it, and the Patron -- by extension, listened silently from the depths of his abyssal pool.

How the mind toiled at the concepts...
Now, confirming his suspicions, his considerations... His theories, building upon them with certifiable fact. What was read aloud here, was blasphemy -- a claim to ascend to match the powers of Gods...
The powers he was meant to claim.
This, was a necessary evil...

All, in the means for an end.
Though, this initial chapter seemed more akin to a dogma, or rather the antithesis of one. A belief that would drive an atheism mindset amongst any that would share alignment with Euxenos' studies -- perhaps for the greater good, that it could be controlled here.

Then again, with it coming clear to him... Would it even matter anymore?
He had already escaped the chains of Hel, outside of his own volition...
He had already come to understand the boundaries of the Soul within the mortal vessel...
Alas, as Euxenos spoke? They were opening the door for which -- The Patron present, would step toward a new level of supremacy.
''What you've read aloud, is most certainly heresy. It is a power that would seek to depose our Patron here, by denying his gifts and claiming divinity for one's own.

As a mortal man, I can say such power was simply not meant for the masses. Though, there is a reason you are here with such a grimoire... Perhaps, even moreso that you received it with such ease.

Perhaps, they had learned of the ills of such endeavor, within the clutches of Man?''
The Maledictus answered the boy, with the clergymen meditating around the pool, now collectively paying attention. Hums and murmurs amongst them making their own opinions known amongst each other filled the air with idle chatter, only to fall silent once more, once the boy continued to read, or comment on the grimoire.
(Etheric Presence)
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[14:18] This knowledge was not meant for the masses. Yet, indeed, none could deny it practically fell into the lap of the boy with little to no effort, besides simply showing genuine passion before those with more knowledge than he. Were the boy more conceited, it might even drive a superiority complex of some sort.

Lucky indeed, that he was instead, a kindly youth that only meant well in general as things stood.

"When you say that, Maledictus... It worries me... Especially if the Patron himself has been seeking this for some time..." He admit, before clutching into the pages tightly, yet never leaving a dent in them despite it. "Like things lined up... Too well. What if this is- Some whim of another? An unseen hand..."

Doubt. It poisoned the boy's mind rather easily in this instance. To a degree in which he struggled to even want to turn the page. Mind wandering, to whether or not this was set up in some way, by one like Memoria, who was capable of influencing the flow of events.

"No... I apologize... Whether that is the case or not... Have to make the most of what's been granted... And retaliate later, if that comes to be found true."

The clouds didn't last long over his head, at least.

Flipping the page at last, before continuing on with his reading.

"Chapter Two. The Sorcerer's Seal.

Before invoking the spells of a sorcerer, one must first perform the rite that grants them the seal... It's... Depicted below, with notes on the side... A circle that contained runes for each of the primary elements, the outer worlds... Centermost, there is a five-pointed star in the middle, with an ourboros at its center... But between the star and runes- There's... An empty space... But it labels it as a specialized sigil... So it seems every seal, in of itself, is unique to the given Sorcerer...

Moving on- It continues... This allows the person to link their soul to the flow of mana beyond. The ritual necessitates a sacrifice of flesh, to be cast into an intense flame... And once it turns to ash, it must be scattered on the sigil, linking the person in body and soul to the astral planes- Transforming that missing piece of themselves into a spiritual body and medium. But there's a statement here, that one who is not in possession of their own soul, is incapable of forming this seal..."
(Euxenos Krima)
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[15:15] What Euxenos inadvertently referenced, was what the collective of Antefinem's upper echelon commonly referred to as Mother Fate -- given many names... Memoria, being another.

It was not commented upon, suggesting the boy continue with their readings with only a soft smile from the Maledictus.
''I would fear not the blessings cast before you, child... It was those that passed it to you, that it was not meant for. Alas, here -- You are the exception.''

...Chapter Two...
Ears hung on the child's every word. Now, receiving information on matters that proved more pertinent to what they sought to learn.
The Sorcerer's Seal
Details for the runic circle necessary to establish the ritual, alongside the potential variety per individual inducted. It suggested that every unveiling of sorcery came with its own unique twist... With every additional variable that may've been added, tweaked or taken away? It implied that none were truly of the same brand of sorcery.

Truly, a wild menagerie of magic usage -- It likely was what separated the Gods, from the Pantheons, from the Marqui, from humanity that dared to dabble amongst them. Surely, it meant there was room for error... For mishap, for dismay as one felt themselves overwhelmed by the powers they hardly comprehended...

Though, a barrier to entry, seemed to be the presence of flesh.
Not blood...
Not even substitutes, and cast into an intense flame... Did it specify the brand of flame? Could it had been conjured of an ethereal domain? Surely, it would blend effortlessly with the ethereal machinations already at-play. Though, it made sense...
A sacrifice of flesh from his cancerous own seemed akin to a paltry loss... Though, for the mark to be sufficient -- it was likely that such an injury had to be special...Something that would not casually regenerate. It would be anguish, but alas... The endeavor would be well worth it.
A permanent loss of a piece of one's self, to find all other aspects of one's self forever changed.

There was genuine pause... Consideration...
Even if the loss was minor in comparison to what was already lost... Could it truly reverse the collective damages of Meranthe? Or was it a doomed effort...

The caveat was mentioned, and an immediate realization came to pass -- What the High Sorceress referenced prior concerning the Patron owning their own soul.

The likes of Vinaska proved to be a double-edged sword, providing one a boon that had proven unappreciated up until now. Alas, he had proven since -- He had a soul...
Alas, he was enabled to partake in such mannerism. Thus, after the sigil was made, the ashes of the burned flesh had to be scattered across it, to transform it into a spiritual medium within the Astral Planes.

''Then, it is obvious... Those whom have consorted with witchcraft could never conduct such a feat. It is a power simply lost to them. So far, it seems rather straight forward... ''

''...Too straight forward...''

''Surely, there is more to it then? The markings must need to be quite precise... I can't fathom such without great consequences.''

(Etheric Presence)
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[15:37] The youth was silent on the matters of Mother Fate for now. Even if they were involved, nothing could be done. And as well, it was hard to remotely prove the theorized meddling was even holding any degree of ill intent. Things were as they were, and they could continue to be.

But as the next page turned? The youth looked surprised. And shook his head. "It's... Just the next chapter..." They'd reply. Nothing more on that matter. Though perhaps such was intentional.

"Maybe..." They started flipping through the pages, towards the back of the book. To where notations beyond the introductory dwelled. Eyes widening as they stared at the warning that came so very far after the chapter that detailed it.

"...A single stray mark in the ritual, can sabotage the result... Making the sacrifice made meaningless... And... The Astral Sea is detailed, vaguely... I- This-" They paused, and gave an anxious swallow at the words written. The implications of it, making hairs stand on end for the boy as they struggle to remark on it.

"The Astral Sea... The outermost realms of the cosmos... That encapsulate reality... The- Limit... Of existence itself... That is where the seal draws from... This- That... There is... A literal... Edge... Of reality... A precipice- By their description here..."

The youth slowly came to close the book for now with that noted. Unsteady at the sour note such a notion left. Not for the sake of what Sorcery itself drew from. The comprehension it demanded. No. What was terrifying, was that their reality itself, existed within a literal bubble, formed by these outermost realms. And then? There was simply nothing.

A concept that brough nothing but a moment of existential dread to him.
(Euxenos Krima)
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[15:51] The Maledictus, and so many others listened -- only to have the dissertation slowed to a crawl...
''...Euxenos? Are you... Okay?''
Perhaps, it was due to their youth...
Perhaps, it was the weight of reality...
Perhaps, it was a truth that they, nay... The world was not ready to bear.

The clergy may not have all collectively heard it, but the Patron could reach their thoughts, to recount them, to chain the memories of one with another within the machinations of their own mind. They could put together the pieces, but alas... The mind that mattered the most was the one that held the weakest attunement with him.

The faceless tendrils of one's ethereal essence sought to protrude from the pool, slowly extended out with strain. It was pushing itself far, further than it'd comfortably carry itself while simultaneously spanning in so many different directions.

It was so close...

Practically knocking on the door that was Euxenos' mind... All that was required as that the boy answered -- To let him in...

What pieces he could scrounge together?
That the ritual had to take upon perfection, with every misnomer becoming a catastrophic failure that would set them back further than they began. Every loss, was a stumble down the metaphorical staircase, and in the sense of magus endeavors? This was enough to cease efforts right there...

But for Terminus? A single success was enough to unmake every discrepancy until the End of Time itself.
The Astral Sea...?
Outermost realms of the cosmos?
Encapsulation of Reality?
Limit... That couldn't be it...

The Patron had to know more... To know it all!

Perhaps, in the time of existential dread, one did not notice those calling out to them. The hand of the Maledictus eventually fell upon the boy's shoulder to offer it a slight shake, as though to shake them out of their daze in a gentle wake.
''Are you okay, Euxenos?''
Up close, the regally hooded figure could have their face seen better -- an elder beneath it, with the wear of time across their skin.
''You seem to have lost yourself there.''

A hand was offered as though to support the book with their grasp, almost as though to suggest it be re-opened, even if it meant they were to take it upon themselves to read it. After all, with their body properly attuned to the Patron, and their mind open? Everything they would consume would inevitably find itself within the mind of the listening ancient.

''Perhaps, I can take it from here... If you need to catch your bearings.''
The Maledictus seemed determined to take the reigns, if only to shoulder the burden and serve their Patron.
(Etheric Presence)
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[16:17] Wordless.

No voice came from the youth as the patron knocked on their mind. The realization of it- The notion was enough to give any sane man a trembling disposition.

But as well, there was no resistance. What was within the mind of the youth, was a frantic gibbering of thoughts- Manic, unfocused, confused yet certain. They claimed the text was vague. But that's because it was worded in exact. The Astral Sea was vague.

It was infinite. It was sprawling. It was ancient. As primordial as the Constants- No. More so. As old as the founding divine spirits, when the world was first etched out to be born from the elements.

It was limitless, but was at once, the limit. Where reality condensed- And then ceases just beyond its endless horizon.

This was the depiction held by the tome. So vivid in in Ilumitar's writing, even though by all accounts, it should not be.

The youth shook their head, and quickly tugged the bookaway from the Maledictus before they could open the pages. Uttering, "Don't!" With a quick, fearful snap. Their gaze then slowly shifted. Staring into the pool from which the Patron had been trying to reach out.

Silent again.

Holding the grimoire tight to his chest with one hand. Whilst the other reached into his bag. And pulled free an Elysian Berry. His intents likely obvious at this point, as the misshapen, speckled fruit was brought towards his face, as his gaze steadily shifted towards the ceiling.

"Give me sight... Let me see it... This... Perfect Flaw..."

The uttering carried out into the room. Terminus, welcomed to the ride if they so chose to see through their mind amidst a forced projection. Though, it was likely unwise to ill-prepared.
(Euxenos Krima)
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[16:29] The psionic connection was established with... little resistance?
Was their mind simply unprepared for the powers of the Patron that actively sought to find this info by default? Surely, they were not of the weak-minded…
They wouldn't have been capable of procuring this tome if they were... Right? It was as though walking into a chaotic library, where the annuls of another's mind would oft be relatively working fluidly.

Everything was seemingly rattled, and attempting to listen-in, only provided one with incoherent mutterings... Randomized thoughts, concerns -- Fear.

It was riddled through it all, plaguing it all...
Aggravating a Patron that couldn't make sense of the final key steps seen by Euxenos
["What is this..."]
Thoughts of the Patron as they attempted to peruse through one's mind.
["What is meant by it being... Vague... This... Astral Sea. It simply doesn't make sense."]


'Give me sight... Let me see it... This... Perfect Flaw...'
The voice from beyond sought to narrate the matters of the world beyond. It was clear, Euxenos was up to something...

Patiently, Terminus waited...
Idling to see how the voices, the visuals -- everything would shift, change, direct him to the information he so desperately sought. To understand as the grimoire's previous users had...

Whatever the teen had induced upon themselves? Would be subjected upon the psionic entity as well, for they actively sought to entangle their own being within one's mind. What results this would incur? Was currently unknown...
(Etheric Presence)
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[16:45] What rattled into the open air, was teeth tearing through the soft flesh of a ripened fruit- Echoing out, until the noise faded to deathly silence. And then? There was nothing.

The clergymen. The Maledictus. The sanctuary that the patron took refuge in?

Gone.

It was as if a shroud of nothing save vacuum encapsulated the both of them. Surroundings colorless- Except, no. It wasn't that there was nothing- Everything was moving around them- At impossible speeds. To the pint where there were only faint lines as distant stars were passed in mere milliseconds by the conscious minds- The astral bodies of each that were dragged unfathomably far from the comforts of the mortal plane and identifiable celestial bodies.

At the speed all was passing through their minds- Nothing, yet all at once? It was an experience that could only be depicted, as though feeling one's self as though a vapor, being siphoned through a vent, against the will of both the self and natural law.

And for an instant- A fragment of a millisecond? It came into view. Not even a place- But then it was- And wasn't again. A vast current of unending, shifting essence. Yet, it was beyond reach, An innate comprehension, that none currently witnessing this- May dare touch it.

And defying carried the threat of unmaking the mind itself.

But this was a mere, fragmented moment. Before Euxnos was dragged to a pitch black that ran just along the edges of the fathomless wellspring. In of itself, equally without end.

A silent, tranquil black at first. Until a hushed noise came from it. Then another. Each sounding of it gathering more to a chorus that never managed a fully formed statement. Like a dying gasp being made, as a signal to let it be known, that something was seen. And as the unison grew? Much of the tones sounded almost terrestrial, despite the vast gap from the mortal plane. Etched with static, but too brief to make out.

A symphony of ancient voices. Choked, each and all.

And then? It ended.

They had never left. The remainder of the sound of that first bite into the fruit continuing. Telling, of how little time had passed in reality, despite what the berry's innate properties permitted them to witness. If just for a fleeting second.
(Euxenos Krima)
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[17:14] Existing for so long subjected one to many powers...
Many magics...
Many conjurations...
Many sights, and moreover..?
Many experiences.

None of moments in over a century's worth of existence had come close to this...
["This is... Eternity... Infinity... The power of Gods... Of Marqui… Of... Everything..."]
It was enough to gape at the eyes... To take it all in...
Every last mote...
But then, it was too much... Vastly too much...
From a mortal? Nay... It was from beyond.

The sounds of hundreds of men, women, and children screaming, singing, crying and moaning out paled when fared before this. The cosmos passed him by, astral projection frozen in place...
If this was naught but a fraction of a moment, it felt more akin to yet another century of his lifespan, indulging in every last sensation, yet suffering it all -- Learning to enjoy the anguish... The madness...
To uphold a greatened resolve.

["To Be, and Not To Be... All At Once; Undefined... Vague."]
The claim made sense, for as much as what one beheld did not...
The Astral Sea was vague, for it held no definitions as the world of the physical, and the metaphysical beyond it did. There was a limit to what held certainty... This, was what lied beyond certainty.
The mortal and physical could never hope to directly intermingle with it... It was beyond them... Beyond the mere ethereal... It would unmake them in totality.

It required proper attunement -- The difference between even the greatest of magi, and the most fallible of those dubbed godhood.
It seemed so vast... Too vast… Surely, Terminus represented The End. Could it be that the existence of this sea insinuated no such thing? That, is simply held no beginning, no end... No edge for which to be inspected upon.

It simply always-is... Always-was... Always-will be...

It challenged... Everything; threatening to unmake his purpose -- Why he came to exist. Though, perhaps it was simply a misunderstanding of purpose... A miscomprehension of the prophecy? Perhaps those of the world were wrong. He had a mission... A Vision of glorious design...
This could not prove evidence of such becoming a Falsity...
Nay...
It was further evidence that it could not be denied... An engine that was to propel such matter upon what was definable...
To redefine it all...

For it was limitless, but what lied within its vast scape? Bore a fringe, from which all came to be. Such self-dissertation came within the silent, tranquil black -- before the inevitable chorus came to form. It reminded him of the past... But it was so much more.
Though, as swiftly as it came...
As bold and unabashed they'd proven? It'd depart -- Leaving Terminus with a tingling at the mind that would never leave.

Both an understanding that a greater power beyond all Gods and Marqui existed... That there were mortal men that sought to claim it...
Yet, the amplified desire to claim it for himself...

Perhaps, it was overconfidence...
Perhaps, it was insatiable hunger for power...
Perhaps -- Not even Terminus knew why they carried through the motions they did.

One thing that was certain -- The Patron stirred within the depths of their shrine pool, silent and mulling about what it had come to interpret. The Maledictus and clergymen of the surface? Simply appeared perplexed, uncertain as to what was going on. After all, none of them were psionic -- only capable of tagging along with the telepathic aid of the Patron, whenever it opted to.

. . .
No one said a word...

(Etheric Presence)
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[17:29] In the case of Terminus, the lack of a physical form- The divide he was capable of? Must have been a blessing. Euxenos was nowhere near as luck to be capable of dissecting it all in rapid succession.

They had witness perfection. In all its profane, soulless glory. The Astral Sea.

And the black that dwelled across, like tumorous veins leeching against the walls. A cold, black consumption.

Their face quivered in a horrified grimace at first.

But then? The edges of his lips twitched. Forcing themselves into a disquieting grin, as an unsettling chuckle accompanied it.

For they also witnessed the Flaw. In all its unfounded beauty in its chorus of the long-decayed remnants of the ancient dead that yet clung to existence.

Yet this moment of elation, seemingly not fully claiming his mind, came with its own costs. From their left eye, a tear duct burgeoning a stream of crimson out, and down their cheek. For like as not, their body was underdeveloped, with few defenses against that maddening moment.

And as luck would have it, it only strained them enough to cause minimal damage. When it could have done much worse- Perhaps even permanently ruining a portion of his brain with an aneurism.

"...The Astral Sea... Why... Does it's Shadow... Wail...?" They'd question to the open air. Their arms covering the book with a vice grip. Before finally? They collapsed.

For this was not something they should have witnessed. It was far, far too soon. And they hadn't the protections of the Sorcerer's Seal.
(Euxenos Krima)
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[17:47] Perhaps, it was unknown to the masses...
But beyond the ethereal presence that intermingled to vague degree upon the surface of this abyssal pool? At the bottom of the depths -- Lied the Patron's husk, constantly making the effort to project their influence vastly beyond their vessel.

Such an experience shorted its vastness, forcing it to funnel its attentive efforts entirely upon Euxenos and the experience they had just undergone. It was new... Extreme... Leaving one forever changed.
It was akin to realizing that a world existed beyond one's four walls... To know the room didn't register as a mote beyond it -- it was nothing.

Which left one to realize, just how great of a task would it have been to challenge the likes of a Primordial? Just how vast was the gap between Varrach and him? Nay -- Could it had been that Mestra was simply a lesser deity? Less than that? One that had hardly dabbled in the likes of the powers at their disposal? How could that be? Were they not longstanding? Had they not existed for leagues beyond Varrach and himself?

It left so many questions that simply lacked answers.
They had to be infinite... Yet, by being crushed by the likes of a mortal, or even several of Varrach's forces -- It implied they held a limit.
Then, was it possible, that it was never infinity that was claimed by any...

Any sorcerer...
Any Marqui…
Any Goddess
Any God...
Any Patron in Meranthe -- Nay, Eternia's history...

They all had limits, a mere piece of Infinity... Thus, even mortals could reach out, to challenge, to surpass them.
It was a horrifying thought -- To know that even with access to Everything, it could possibly amount to naught.

'The Astral Sea... Why... Does its shadow... Wail...?'
The voice stuck out to Terminus, listening to the minds of those abroad.
He didnot know the answer, keeping to his silence... Attempting desperately to wrap his head around the constant series of questions that tormented him so relentlessly.
(Etheric Presence)
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