A day had passed since Sunny and Mahoraga had freed Eurys, and with each word the frail skeleton shared, the questions gnawing at Sunny's mind only deepened.
"So since the Gods were barred from entering reality, they resorted to chosen mortals — using their bodies as a vessel to walk the world?"
Eurys let out a faint chuckle, "Mhm… something like that, yes."
Sunny fell quiet for a moment, his thoughts churning, before his gaze shifted back to Eurys."You called the Nightmare Spell one of Weaver's little creations. Does that mean he's the one who created it?"
Eurys did not answer immediately. He simply continued taking his stride, leading them across the dry sand. When he finally spoke, his voice had lost even its faint trace of amusement.
"Created?" he repeated softly. "My oh my, that word is too crude for something like that."
He went on without pause, his tone sharpening slightly. "Weaver did not create the Spell in the way you think. He did not use an enchanted item to create it, nor his own Divine power. Instead," his voice dropped, "he wove it into being."
His hollow gaze drifted across the immolating desert.
"He took the Strings of Fate and knitted them into what you now call the Nightmare Spell. In my time, it was still in its infancy. Weaver used mortal priestesses as conduits, binding the Spell to unsuspecting souls."
"I would assume it grew from there — feeding on those very souls it claimed, linking their power together until it became something far greater. Still… it is remarkable. Mortal souls, not even divine in nature, sustaining something on that scale. Truly surprising."
Sunny fell silent, piecing together the truth Eurys had laid bare.
If the Spell fed on souls, if it linked them.
Then it wasn't just granting power.
It was harvesting it.
His expression darkened.
Every Sleeper, every awakened, every ascended, every transcendent — each one tied into that vast, unseen tapestry. Their struggles, their victories, their deaths… all of it feeding something far greater than themselves.
But what?
Souls were powerful. He had felt it himself — every time a new core was forged, every time his soul deepened and expanded. The change was undeniable. His strength grew, yes… but more than that, his essence swelled, thicker, denser, as if something fundamental within him had been reinforced.
If a single soul held that much power then what of countless souls, gathered and bound together?
Sunny's fingers curled slightly as a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.
Power on that scale could not simply be used to sustain the Spell. Even something as vast as it did not need that much.
What was all that power fueling?
He cast a furtive glance at Mahoraga — but there was no trace of surprise in his expression… was he already aware of this?
Unease stirred within Sunny's chest, but it was quickly smothered. There was no point in pressing him — Mahoraga answered only when he wanted to. He couldn't pry the truth from him. Instead, Sunny shifted his attention back to Eurys.
"If it's been expanding all this time," Sunny said slowly, "then there has to be a purpose to it."
Eurys let out a soft hum, tilting his skull ever so slightly as if considering the thought.
"A purpose…" he echoed, almost lazily. "You do love that word." He walked on without breaking his stride, "Everything must have a reason. A goal. A grand design…" he went on, his tone faintly amused. "It makes things easier to accept, doesn't it?"
Sunny's gaze hardened, but he did not interrupt.
Eurys chuckled.
"But not everything is so deliberate." He lifted his brittle hand and made a vague motion. "Some things simply are. They grow, they spread, they consume… not because they seek an end, but because that is their nature."
His hollow sockets turned slightly toward Sunny. "Tell me," he said, his voice softening, "does fire burn with purpose?"
Sunny remained silent.
"It devours whatever it can reach," Eurys continued calmly. "It does not ask why. It does not need to. Now imagine a fire that feeds on souls. Whether it has a purpose or not…" he added lightly, "neither answer will bring you any comfort."
Sunny did not reply immediately.
His eyes lingered on Eurys' back as he mulled over those words in his head. A Spell without purpose… or one with a purpose beyond comprehension. Neither sat well with him.
"That's a convenient way to avoid answering the question," he said flatly.
Eurys laughed, "My oh my, how sharp."
He turned to Sunny with a light smile that looked creepy because the man had no lips, "If it does have a purpose… do you truly believe it is one that would satisfy you?"
Sunny could not answer,
There was truth in Eurys' words. What could a mere sleeper truly do with the answer? Whether he could ever oppose the Spell did not depend on understanding the reason behind it, but on whether he could one day rise to a level of power equal to it or surpass it.
In the end, everything boiled down to one fact — power.
Without strength, knowledge was nothing more than a burden. Even if he uncovered the Spell's true nature, what then? What could he possibly do with it, as he was now.
"Some truth are best left uncofirmed," Eurys, as if sensing his thoughts advised. "And I do wonder," he added softly, almost to himself, "whether you would prefer a cruel truth… or a comforting lie."