Corvis Eralith
Malachite is a mineral deriving from copper, and I knew copper had a great affinity with water mana.
By eating it, Berna could use water magic, and the Moyalembic—or Water Generator, as it was now commonly called—worked with copper as its primary conductor.
That made malachite the perfect material for me to begin building an artificial limb, seeing how water magic was my specialty.
The green gem seemed to hum in my hand, resonating with the mana that pulsed through my veins, and I felt a quiet thrill of possibility.
This was it. This was the beginning of something that could change everything.
Inside Evascir's humble abode in Azellio, I sat at the central table, my attention fixed on the malachite chunk before me.
The stone was rough, unpolished, but I could already see the shape I wanted it to take—a hand, a tool, a extension of myself that would bridge the gap between what I had lost and what I could become.
Evascir, meanwhile, was being besieged by my sister's questions, his composure unshaken despite her relentless interrogation.
"Who was the King of Elenoir during the First War?" Tessia demanded, her voice carrying an edge of suspicion.
"Armin Eralith, the grandfather of your grandfather," Evascir replied smoothly, perfectly reciting the information I had drilled into him.
"Name the current Ladies of the Sister Houses," Tessia ordered, her expression triumphant—she thought to have won.
"Lady Elena Ivsaar, Lady Leucothoe Vernisser, Lady Annarel Chaffer, Lady Melissa Rennoux, Lady Seraph Auddyr and Lady Nasleen Grephin," Evascir masterfully replied.
His voice was calm, measured, the voice of someone who had spent centuries learning to control every nuance of his tone.
I tried to make mana flow inside the malachite. I formed a Bubblespell—empty of any other magic or Article of Peace—and placed a small chunk of malachite inside it.
The green mineral suspended in the bubble began to spin vigorously, reacting with the water magic as if it had been waiting for this moment.
Once I dispelled the Bubblespell, the malachite had transformed. It was clearer, almost transparent, and much lighter, as if the water magic had purified it, stripped away its impurities, and revealed its true nature.
"Tell me about all the elven hamlets near the northern coast of Dicathen... but east of Asyphin! And while remaining in its Mistmarch!" Tessia demanded, her eyes narrowing. "A Sornèvaine is a traveler: you must know about them."
"Tessia!" I admonished her, my patience fraying. "Are you here to help, or what? I cannot concentrate with you harassing Lidayoz!"
"I am not harassing him!" Tessia protested, her voice rising. "I am... validating his identity."
"Fact remains, you are not being helpful," I said, crossing my arms. "Keep quiet, or leave."
"I am not leaving you alone with someone I do not trust!" Tessia shouted back, her hands planted on her hips.
I sighed, the weight of her suspicion pressing down on me. She was just trying to protect me, to keep me safe in her own way. But her protectiveness was a cage, and I needed to find a way out.
"Oh, I have an idea, then," I said, keeping my voice calm. "If you do not trust me with being alone with Lidayoz, go back to the Royal Palace and ask for Alea to come. You trust the maid who has been looking over me all my life, the sister of my best friend, with my safety, do you not? And if you are afraid about the time I will be alone with Lidayoz while Alea comes, you can leave Coco to look after me."
Tessia hesitated, her eyes flicking between me and Evascir.
"It might be a good idea," she admitted reluctantly. "Hoofy needs someone to look after him, and I want to train a bit with Feyrith too."
She nodded, a decision made. "We have a deal! Coco, I task you with looking after Corvis until Alea comes!"
She stood up from the chair, gave a warning look at Evascir, petted Berna briefly, and then left. Coco chirped her goodbye, a soft, almost apologetic sound.
"Don't mind the Lady, Evascir," Coco said, her voice warm despite her words. "She is simply like that."
"My sister is stupid," I mumbled under my breath, returning to my work on the malachite. The words were harsh, but I did not mean them. Tessia was not stupid. She was fierce, protective, and deeply loyal. She just did not know when to let go.
"This Alea, Eralith," Evascir said, his voice curious. "Who is she?"
"She is a Lance," I replied, not looking up. "You know, those white-core lessers. The ones who have been elevated to white core by the Artifacts given by Windsom Indrath to the monarchs of Dicathen."
"Yes, I know of them," Evascir said.
"Actually," I said, a thought striking me, "what are those Artifacts, exactly?"
The mood in the room grew darker, as if the Artifacts were a difficult topic. Evascir's expression shifted, a shadow crossing his stony features.
"Vritra's invention," he said.
I froze. Vritra?! What? My heart seized in my chest.
"Does that... does that mean Agrona can do something to them?" I asked, fear gripping my heart.
Was this yet another divergence from the novel? But the Indrath Clan would never let something like this happen. They would not let Agrona have such a powerful hand over Dicathen.
"No," Evascir denied, shaking his head. "They work with blood, and the ultimate safety protocol of those Artifacts is Indrath Blood. Only Kezess Indrath is strong enough to override them."
Right; Kezess Indrath. No matter how many divergences there were in this timeline, Agrona was still weaker than the Dragon lord. That was why he needed the Legacy, and I had thwarted that plan.
"Who was their creator, anyway?" I asked Evascir. "If I could fix the problem of the Artifacts, it would be a great help."
Namely, I needed to ensure Olfred could not be killed by Dawsid Greysunders in case the dwarven king decided to use him as leverage.
Moreover, even if Kezess Indrath would not spend his time killing the Lances himself—he would send someone like Taci to do so, as in the novel—I wanted the Lance to be safe from the Asuran king as much as possible.
"Great Lord Saytanel Vritra," Evascir said. "The first Great Lord of the Vritra Clan. Agrona's father."
"And what happened to Great Lord Vritra?" I dared to ask.
"Killed by Agrona," Coco said. "The Asclepius Clan was already gone from Epheotus when it happened, so we do not know much about it. But that news reverberated all across the world. A Great Lord killed—the Lord Legislator himself. The Commonwealth of the Great Eight was once again proven fallible just a few decades after the Great Lord of the Asclepius Clan fled Epheotus."
"Thank you for the information," I said, forcing my focus back to the malachite. "But right now, I have a Lifework to make."
—
I worked all week on the malachite, testing it, understanding it, going from Azellio to Zestier every evening to have dinner and sleep in the Royal Palace, then departing the morning after.
All while I made stops in the Hearth to check on Chul and consult Avicenna.
So when the time for the Darffest came, and I was not ready with my Lifework yet, I did the only thing I could: I killed myself.
I ingested the C-Pill, the Cravenite's core, and drove the emerald blade of my wand-cane through my chest.
The river claimed me then, and I went REtrocurrent to go back in time, ready to get back to work.
—
I feared that I could return to a time before the Legacy's descent. I was not sure I could prevent it another time, because no matter how much I prepared myself Agrona remained Agrona.
However, Fate seemed to prevent it, stopping me from reaching a time before that event.
I opened my eyes in the Hearth, Evascir's Forge Room to be precise. The Titan was back in his normal Narmanakaya, watching over me as I was working the malachite into the shape of a hand.
"Evascir," I called him, raising the malachite above my head. The mineral was crystalline after I treated it with water magic, and it now had the rough shape of a hand. "Can you tell me more about these gems: jade, emerald, malachite..."
"It is called Gemmancy, Eralith," Evascir said, raising his eyes from the book about elven culture he was reading. "Manisiddry, if you prefer the Oldest Asuran word. It is one of the many branches of Brahman."
"Makes sense, but why are they all green?" I asked, taking sandpaper to brush the malachite into a better shape.
"My Clan's expertise lies in Green Gemmancy," Evascir explained. "A subbranch of a branch of Brahman."
"Damn, Asuran magic is complicated," I commented, trying to move the fingers of the malachite hand.
They did not move. It was still a gem, after all. The stone was inert, lifeless, no matter how much mana I fed into it.
"When you are a species that is one with mana and has existed for millions of years, that is the result," Evascir said. He narrowed his eyes, noticing my distress. "Is there a problem with your project?"
"No," I said, though the word tasted like a lie. "I want to try something."
This was not the first time I had encountered this problem. In the last "timeline," I had faced it too, when I was done crafting the fake hand. But differently from that other attempt, now I had plenty of time to resolve it.
I took off my wooden hand and, in its place, I attached my new malachite hand. It felt dead. It lacked the gears to move it, the mechanics that would give it life.
But perhaps I did not need gears. Perhaps I needed something else.
REstringify.
I focused, and I was able to see the golden threads of Fate. Evascir had plenty of them—ancient, strong, woven through with centuries of purpose.
As for me... I had expended them all preventing the Legacy's descent. If I was not the Arbiter of Fate, I would be dead.
While I fought Agrona's hold over the Legacy, however, I had understood something. No one used their strings actively.
They were there, woven into the fabric of existence, but they were unable to be interacted with by anyone who was not the Arbiter/Justiciar.
In the novel, after the Fourth Keystone, Arthur had managed to use those threads to separate Agrona from the Legacy, similarly to how I had done it myself.
However, I had used my own strings. That was the main difference between me and Arthur. My abilities granted me control over my Fate and my Fate only.
Arthur could use Fate itself—all of it.
Now the question was... how did I recover my strings? REstringify was the authority over the Edict of Spatium. Connection was their power. If I managed to recover even a single string, I could connect it with my artificial hand, making it identical to my body.
That was the answer. The key to accomplishing my Lifework. I had to recover my strings of Fate while making a substitute for them so others could use them too—like artificial nerves.
I substituted the malachite hand with the wooden one and made to exit the Forge Room.
"I will meet with Chul," I told Evascir. "I need Avicenna."
My nephew was... training in the Dance Stage, swinging Suncrusher left and right while he spoke to Avicenna.
"In this very room, I once asked Grandfather to spar, Wise Avicenna," Chul said, Suncrusher raised high above his arms. "I let you imagine the humiliation I received!"
Suncrusher came down, and the impact reverberated across the Dance Stage like a thunderclap.
"I fail to see how that is supposed to help you mask your Asuran mana signature," I commented from the far end of the room.
"Uncle!" Chul greeted me with a wide smile. "Wise Avicenna says that I need to awaken my Solidarity! And you know: swinging Suncrusher is always the answer!"
"I would not say..." I said with a low voice, shaking my head. "Anyway, can I borrow Avicenna for some time? I swear I will bring him back before I leave the Hearth."
"Sure!" Chul confirmed, offering the Vaultlamp to me before he returned to his training. "Who knows? Perhaps I will be able to leave the Hearth with you before you are done with Wise Avicenna!"
I smirked at his optimism. That was something we all should learn from Chul. Since I gave him this task, he had put all of himself into it, discarding negativity completely.
"I am rooting for you," I said, leaving with Avicenna.
'Peace to you, Justiciar,' the Djinn Sage said as I walked the tunnels of the Hearth. 'How may I assist you?'
Peace to you, Avicenna, I replied, activating Inner Current. Did the folk of calm currents ever discover something about the threads of Fate? Of Peace, sorry.
'Interesting question,' Avicenna replied. 'No. But if you tell me your objective, I may know something else that may help you.'
Nothing, huh? I sighed inwardly. Unfortunate; I need to recover my lost strings of Fate. Every single person has some. As for I? I lost them in a... fight.
'The answer of my people to this kind of question is always that of Insight,' Avicenna said. 'Justiciar, I think you could use an Awareroom. It could also help you greatly with all of your inventions.'
You think an Awareroom might be of help? I asked. But I fear I do not have enough time to make one.
'You misunderstand what an Awareroom is, Justiciar, and how it is made,' Avicenna said. 'You just need a place where you feel at Peace. Everything else is secondary: equipment, tools, furniture.'
A place I feel at Peace? I repeated, the idea taking root in my mind. That is something I can find.
—
It took me two other loops—for a total of ten days—to locate a good place for my Awareroom. For my laboratory.
Yes, I liked that word better. It felt more mine.
I spent a long, long time searching everywhere, visiting all the places I have ever considered mine.
In Zestier, I tried my bedroom in the Royal Palace, my office at the Unraveler's Company, and even the Verticil temple at the end of Honeycomb Promenade.
In Burim, I tried the Company's headquarters there, the apartment Elder Rahdeas had given me to maintain Finn's identity with an official residence. I even tried the surroundings of Beer & Stone.
Nothing.
I did the same for Asyphin, Eidelholm, Vaelmora and Vildorial. In the end, I was left with Azellio. And there, I found the perfect spot.
"You want to buy a new property, Your Highness?" Alea, who had accompanied me to Cradletown, asked.
I had made her meet with Lidayoz Sartobel, revealing to her that he was one of the Asuras I had met in the Hearth. After the initial shock of being face to face with a deity, the Triscan Lance had accepted the situation with extreme calm.
She was a remarkable woman, my loyal Alea. I did not know what I had done to deserve her loyalty.
"That is right," I said, hands on my hips.
We were far from Azellio's portal, near one of the waterfalls that fell from Peak Firrod and fed the Cyricon River.
This was the eighth hill of Azellio's valley, one far from the others, on the boundary outskirts of the city. The climate was pleasantly mountainous, but the mist still remained—albeit not as thick as in Azellio's centre.
But what was more impressive was the enormous Watchful Apple that reigned over this section of the valley: the Hallowed Bountiful.
That was how the scouts of the Treeful Phalanx had named it. Large golden fruits grew among its larger canopy, and a tree like that could have housed a miniature Royal Palace or a modest noble estate. It was perfect.
"You want to build a house on top of it?" Alea asked, curious.
"What? No," I recoiled. "Apple trees are the most sacred of all! And I do not want an estate all for myself. Something at its base—that is how I like it. I want to respect the Hallowed Bountiful."
I also needed to check if it had a pseudo-mana core like the Hallowed Hollow, but not now.
"Well," Alea said, turning her back to Azellio in the distance, "I do not think His Majesty will tell you anything. It is far from Cradletown, and the Elshire Forest does not even reach this far."
That was the main reason why this place was perfect. The Hallowed Bountiful was the only sign of the Elshire Forest here.
No thicket, no other trees grew around here, only the Hallowed Bountiful standing tall and proud. It was like a large hill meadow with a tall tree at its centre.
The sun was not filtered by leaves unless I stood beneath the tree itself, and the air was fresh and cold—perfect for concentration. The wind howled through the valley, uninterrupted by other trees, while Peak Firrod stood as a shield.
It blended my elven core with the remains of my human mind from Earth, with the dwarven spirit, and the Phoenix love for the wind.
—
After many more tries, I finally did it.
In two days, the Darffest week would officially start, and I was finally ready.
I opened my eyes. The sun was warm over me as I lay with folded legs beneath the Hallowed Bountiful. My laboratory proper would have to wait until after the Darffest—I already asked trusted workers for it—but the Awareroom function was there.
Because, leaking from my core, visible only to the eyes of the Arbiter of Fate, was it: a single golden thread.
"Yes!" I cried out, joy bursting from my whole self.
Using REstringify and REmould together, I touched this string.
From my core, it traveled through my body like a new metaphysical vein, up to my arm, through it, to my hand, connecting itself to the malachite hand: my Servo-Hand.
Servo-Limbs. That was the name I came up with for my Lifework. A helping limb.
I clenched my right fist, feeling it stronger than ever before. The malachite responded to my will as if it were flesh and blood, as if it had always been a part of me.
I opened the palm of my Servo-Hand, lifting it backlight against the sun. The rays filtered through the bright green gem, but I felt the warmth on it—something that was impossible to imagine with my wooden hand.
I touched each finger with my thumb, a famous exercise for hand-to-brain coordination, and I managed it perfectly.
"Berna, give me your paw!" I exclaimed, turning to look at my Guardian Bear.
She was lying lazily, enjoying the autumn sun. She tilted her head, but seeing me so happy, she sat back on her haunches and offered one of her massive paws.
I gripped it and shook her paw, up and down, giggling like a child as I did so. It worked! It worked!
Lost limbs were a tragedy—one of the worst things that happened to soldiers in war, or to miners in Darv, or even to hunters, carpenters, and whoever had a dangerous job.
In the novel too, people did not escape lost limbs: Varay Aurae, Lance of Sapin, lost one arm; Astera Alderman lost a leg. My Servo-Limbs could truly revolutionize Dicathen's medicine.
But I had only tested how they felt—perfect. Now was the moment of truth: magic.
I raised my right arm and called forth a Bubblespell.
The little orb of water mana formed seamlessly in front of my malachite finger. I used REmould to inscribe an Article of Peace in it: L, Lelmoran, Unity.
It worked. The mana constituting the Bubblespell became denser, making the Bubblespell more efficient in its mana usage.
I dispelled the Bubblespell and tried something else: one of Tessia's Galeshots.
Wind gathered around me in a small cyclone, and from the tip of my finger, I shot a projectile of air that hit the small pond below the waterfall near the Hallowed Bountiful, splashing water all around.
I retrieved my wand-cane from my storage ring and unsheathed the hidden emerald blade.
"Berna! Let us exchange some blows!" I said to my bond.
Berna yawned, shrugging herself and getting bipedal. She used earth magic to cover her sharp claws in a coating of earth—did she worry she might damage my blade? But Evascir himself had crafted it for me.
It was my very own Dawn's Ballad—what I had been dreaming of since I bought my first wand-cane in Asyphin at five years old.
With the wind whistling to our left, the soft sun warming us, and the Hallowed Bountiful as our spectator, I rushed at Berna.
I made a crescent swing to her side, and she blocked it with her earth-covered claws. The impact echoed, but it did not travel up my arm. The shockwave was instead absorbed by the jade bracelet on my left wrist.
"I am starting to like this Green Gemmancy more and more," I said, continuing to play with my Guardian Bear.
One swing to the right. Berna blocked it. One from above. One from below. Each swing was an arc of green through the air, like a green rainbow.
Fiorwato, Glory of Green in ancient elven. It sounded good enough to my ears.
I sheathed the emerald blade of Fiorwato and stretched my arms, intertwining my fingers—flesh ones and malachite ones—together.
Then I felt a wave of Insight travel from the river to my head, REtrocurrent granting me a new way to look at one of the pillars of my plan: my identities through REmould.
"Berna! Want to see something cool?" I asked her, unable to resist the sheer joy of having done it.
Berna indulged in my antics, growling in confirmation. I snapped my Servo-Hand's fingers, and from the malachite digits, REmould did its work, making me Finn Warend.
"I am not done yet!" I exclaimed and snapped them again, turning into Eralith Asclepius.
"And—" I snapped one last time. "Corvis again! It is instantaneous! Yes, the clothes are still a problem, but we cannot have everything."
REmould worked on my body, not on the clothes covering it, but my Servo-Hand was now part of my body, so it did not create problems with using REmould.
In fact, it was better to use REmould with my Servo-Hand, seeing as malachite was a magical gem.
"Good," I said, slapping my cheeks with both hands. The Trucewater of Inner Current made me focus again. "Let us make a new leg for Hoofy and bring it to Tessia."
—
I was using Wind Surfing, traveling through Zestier on Fiorwato's shaft.
In my storage ring—which I had put back on the finger of my Servo-Hand, as the metal felt more comfortable on the malachite finger—I had a malachite Servo-Leg for Hoofy.
I passed through Milicas Liane at high speed, dodging people while Berna matched my pace at my side, modifying her weight with gravity magic to be as fast as a horse.
I stopped in front of Tessia's house in the Movary, knocking on the door and waiting for my sister to open.
The door opened soon enough, but instead of Tessia, it was a girl with beige hair collected into a braid, around sixteen years of age.
I had seen her somewhere else—in the gardens of the Royal Palace, yes. How was she called?
"Prince Corvis!" the girl greeted me, her eyes widening. "You must be here for Her Highness. I will call her immediately."
"There is no need, Erikiah," Tessia said, surprising her friend by appearing right behind her. "Thank you for visiting me. I have matters with Corvis now."
"Of course," Erikiah said, bowing. "I wish you a pleasant day, Your Highnesses."
When the girl left, I looked at Tessia. "Who was she?" I asked.
"A friend," Tessia explained. "She works as a gardener in the Royal Palace. Erikiah Melibon is her name. Anyway—"
She looked down at my Servo-Hand. "You made it?!" she asked, grabbing my shoulders. "You made something for Hoofy too?"
"Yes," I confirmed with a nod, taking the Servo-Leg out of my storage ring. It was perfectly Hoofy's size—I had taken the necessary measurements a loop or two before. "What do you think?"
"It is pretty..." Tessia said, her eyes wide with wonder. "Are you sure it is also useful?"
To prove the worthiness of my Lifework, I took her hand in a shake with my malachite one. "What do you think?" I asked.
Tessia's eyes widened as she touched my Servo-Hand, running her fingers over the malachite, testing its warmth, its flexibility, its impossible lifelikeness.
"It is not clunky like that piece of junk you had before!" she said, completely unaware of the insult. "You are a genius, Corvis!"
"T-thanks," I said, smiling softly. "But you will have to thank Lidayoz too, next time you see him."
"I still do not trust that guy," Tessia said, but she yielded. "But fine. I will thank him."
"Great," I said. "Now, where is Hoofy?"
The operation took a little while. The new Servo-Leg suited Hoofy perfectly. The problem had been connecting it to his nervous and mana systems.
However, for people who did not have functioning strings of Fate like me, I had invented a perfect substitute: thin cords of iron, manufactured in Burim, which blended inside the Servo-Limb and attached to the body when the Servo-Limb itself was worn.
When the operation was done, Hoofy let out a happy neigh, raising his front legs alongside his new Servo-Leg in joy.
He then began to elegantly trot on the spot, as if he had never lost a leg in the first place. Useless to say, Tessia was on cloud nine.
"It is amazing!" she exclaimed, mounting Hoofy. The Elenoi Highcolt did not complain—he was not feeling any pain. Perfect.
Tessia was, however, unseated by her own steed as he moved to the side, pressing his head against my face to thank me. A low huff of gratitude rumbled through the mana beast, warm and sincere.
"Hoofy, behave!" Tessia whined, getting back on her feet, but she could not find the strength to say more as she saw the happiness in her horse's eyes.
"Tessia, one last thing," I said while petting Hoofy's mane. "You have to say that this was invented by Finn Warend, okay?"
"You want to sell them through the Warend Trading Company?" Tessia asked. "You spend to time with that old dwarf. I don't want my twin to become a greedy merchant."
"Sort of," I replied, ignoring her comment on Elder Rahdeas and the Warend Trading Company. "I would prefer to make them free, but I do not know how to do it."
Tessia crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful.
"It could be a bonus for those working under the Crown," she proposed. "To win over the best talents among all the Kingdom for their servants. The Ivsaars guarantee to pay for the expenses of the entire family. Our family does something similar with the Royal Police."
"That is a good idea," I murmured, the pieces clicking into place. "We could give them freely to those who are injured while they work for the Crown or the Kingdom."
"But wouldn't using your real identity be better?" Tessia asked. "It is not like Finn Warend is royalty."
You would be surprised to know, I said in my head. If I promised free Servo-Limbs to whoever worked for the Greysunders royal family, would that help me gain favor in the Throneholder competition?
The answer was obvious: yes.