Alucent sat on the edge of the bed and held the Journal in his hands.
He did not open it. He sat there for a moment, looking at the dark leather cover with its micro-runes shifting imperceptibly across the surface, and then he took a breath in and exhaled slowly.
The room was quiet around him. The arched glass ceiling revealed the rotating drive shaft overhead, turning with a soft mechanical hum, and the turquoise light of midday filtered through the windows and spread across the floor in pale bands.
He focused his intent on the Journal.
The artifact responded immediately. It lifted from his hands and floated to chest height, orienting itself toward him, and the dark metal filigree along the spine began to glow faintly cyan. The amber gilding on the page edges pulsed once, twice, and then the cover opened on its own. The pages flipped rapidly, one after another in a blur of motion, until they stopped on a blank page near the center.
Fresh script appeared in elegant handwriting.
Oh, look who's back. How was your lecture with Tyranix?
Alucent stared at the words.
His breath stopped. His mind went blank for a moment, and then it started racing, thoughts piling on top of each other faster than he could process them.
It knows. How does it know? I did not activate it during the fight. I did not speak to it. I did not even pull it from the pouch. So how—
The questions kept coming, layering over each other, and his hands curled into fists on his knees.
Was it the Journal that sent Tyranix? Did it orchestrate the attack? Is it watching me constantly without me knowing? What is actually happening?
The Journal floated in front of him, patient and waiting, the cyan and amber light pulsing slowly as though it had all the time in the world.
Alucent's mouth moved before he fully decided to speak.
"Were you the one who sent him to me?" His voice came out rough, tight with confusion and anger. "Do you want me dead? Explain yourself. How do you know I had an encounter with a being I could not even perceive?"
The light around the Journal shifted. The cyan glow brightened and flickered, the amber light at the page edges danced, and the reaction felt almost excited, as though the artifact were chuckling or laughing without making a sound.
Then fresh script appeared on the page.
Kill you? This is so interesting… Why would I want to kill you when I am partially you?
Alucent felt the breath leave his lungs.
"Partially me?" The words came out sharper than he intended. "What are you even talking about?"
The script appeared again, smooth and unhurried.
Yes. Partially you. I know you are curious to know how I knew about your encounter with Tyranix. Before you receive your answer and your curiosity is satisfied, know this: I cannot kill you even if I wanted to. At least, not yet.
Something cold settled in Alucent's chest, heavy and uncomfortable.
"Not yet?" His voice rose. "So you want to kill me?"
The light flickered again, and the script returned immediately.
No. I do not want to kill you. I am simply telling you that the ability to kill you is not possible at this time. That does not mean I want you dead.
Alucent stared at the words and felt his jaw tighten.
Not possible at this time. As if it will become possible later. Is this thing waiting for something?
He forced the thought down and spoke again, his voice strained.
"You still have not told me how you knew about Tyranix."
The Journal's light pulsed once, deliberate and measured, and the script appeared again.
This should not be known by you. But since I am satisfied by the "lecture" you received, I will allow it.
Alucent waited, his heart beating faster now, the tension building in his shoulders.
The script continued.
I know through your heartbeat rate.
Alucent blinked. My heartbeat?
During your encounter, I noticed your heartbeat was racing faster than usual. Faster than what I have observed of you since you first touched me. I concluded that something was wrong.
The script paused, and Alucent felt his breath quicken.
So I used Record of All. Through your eyes, I saw that you were being battered and beaten by something you could not perceive. After understanding the cause, I retreated.
Alucent's mind reeled.
Through my eyes? It saw through my eyes. This thing used my perception.
The script continued without pause.
I know you are wondering how this is even possible. Do not stress yourself. It is possible because you touched the cover of the book. Even if you do not activate me, even if you only brush the cover with your palm, I gain agency. That is all I need.
The script stopped. Then one more line appeared.
Does that satisfy your curiosity, Scion?
Alucent sat there, staring at the page, and his mind began to work through what the Journal had just told him.
When I reached for the pouch during the fight. When I was deciding whether to pull it out. I touched the cover, with just my fingers brushing the leather. That was enough.
He thought about the implications of that, turning them over in his mind.
So even a small action like touching the Journal gives it agency. It can monitor my heartbeat. It can use Record of All on its own, without me activating it. It can see through my eyes and deduce that something is wrong.
He thought of the artifacts he had read about on Earth, in stories and novels and mythology. Magical items with intelligence. Weapons that spoke. Relics with their own wills. None of them had behaved the way this Journal did. None of them had this level of awareness, this degree of autonomy.
This is insane. This artifact is weirder than anything I ever read about.
He looked at the floating Journal, at the pulsing cyan and amber light, and felt something uneasy settle in his chest.
I hope it stays this way. I hope it never turns against me.
The Journal floated in front of him, patient and waiting.
Alucent spoke again, keeping his voice steady. "Since you used Record of All, did you learn who Tyranix is? That is the ability of the power, is it not? To perceive the past?"
The script appeared immediately.
No. I did not. Even though I used the ability, it does not work the same way as when you use it.
Alucent frowned.
"Hmm."
He did not ask the Journal to elaborate. He wanted to understand the distinction himself, to figure out why the ability worked differently depending on who activated it. If he could refine it, tweak it, find ways to use it that the Journal's native activation could not, that knowledge might give him an edge.
I'll work on that later.
He looked at the Journal again, and his tone shifted. There was an edge to his voice now, something angry beneath the calm.
"If you could do all of that," he said, "why did you not activate yourself and help me?"
The light around the Journal dimmed immediately. The cyan glow faded to something darker, muted, and the amber light at the edges flickered once before steadying into something that felt almost disappointed.
Then the script appeared.
Is that what you would have wanted? With that lady present?
Alucent stopped.
The anger drained out of him immediately, replaced by cold clarity.
Scribe Joy. That's right, She was there. If the Journal had activated itself, if it had floated up and glowed and fought back on my behalf, that would have sparked up some reaction from her.
"Of course not," he said quietly.
The light around the Journal returned to its normal state immediately, bright and alive and almost excited again. The script appeared.
That is what I expected. I am proud of you, child.
Alucent's jaw tightened.
"Do not call me child," he said, his voice flat. "Are you my parent now?"
The light around the Journal reacted immediately. The cyan glow brightened and the amber flickered in a way that felt surprised and amused at the same time, and the reaction was so vivid that Alucent could almost hear laughter in it.
The script appeared.
Scion, has the lecture Tyranix given you affected you so much that it instilled some sudden confidence in you?
Alucent did not reply. He shrugged and let the silence sit for a moment, then changed the subject.
"What do you know about this place? This city?" He paused and looked toward the window, toward the streets beyond. "It looks normal. Perfect. But on our way here, we were told it was being attacked by creatures called Hex-Waros. Since we arrived, we have not noticed anything. No signs of danger. No residents complaining. Was the information wrong?"
The script appeared quickly this time.
There is nothing wrong with the Hinter Villages. This is how it has always been.
Alucent frowned.
The script continued.
It feels the way it feels because that is what the residents feel. The information is not wrong. They have fought back to keep such situations outside the city. The residents here remain positive, jovial, happy, living their normal lives as if nothing had happened.
The script paused, then continued.
They have created an Etch to Runeforce here that reflects what the people feel into physical space.
Alucent felt his eyes widen.
An Etch to Runeforce. Reflecting emotion into physical space to an entire city?
The script continued without pause.
What they are doing is normal. Happy. Living their lives continuously as people with families and loved ones. So the city reflects this. Whatever you think this place is, it is so because the people decided not to let their tragic experiences determine their lives, or the lives of others, or the lives of guests.
Alucent sat there, stunned, his breath coming shallow.
Is that even possible? Is Runeforce that powerful? What kind of Threadweavers exist here to create such an effect on an entire city?
He leaned forward, his hands gripping his knees.
"How is that possible?" he asked. "Before I met Tyranix, I did not know there were other Threadweaves apart from the Rune Threadweave. Did you know? Do you know how many exist?"
The script appeared.
Yes. I know. But do not ask me which ones exist apart from Folly and Rune. Your mind is too fragile. It would break upon knowledge beyond you.
Alucent's frustration flared, hot and sharp.
"Then how can I make my mind stronger?" he asked. "How can I advance so I can receive this knowledge?"
The script appeared immediately.
There is only one way. Advance through the Threads. You are a Thread 3 Silverline. Strive to pass the Acceptance phase. Advance to Thread 4 Etch. I have already given you the system. The Cold Scribe method.
Alucent opened his mouth to reply.
Then he heard a knock on the door.
He froze. His eyes snapped toward the door, then back to the Journal, and without wasting time he focused his intent and deactivated the artifact.
The Journal's light faded immediately. The pages flipped shut, the cyan and amber glow vanished, and the artifact reverted to its normal form. It began to fall from its floating position, and Alucent reached out and caught it mid-air. He shoved it into the pouch at the desk and stood up from the bed.
"Who is it?" he called out.
A female voice answered from the other side of the door, soft and composed.
"It is me. Scribe Joy. May I come in?"