Eldric stared at the letter, stunned.
He hadn't recognized any semblance of the English alphabet since his reincarnation—not even within Vernaculan, the common tongue. So when he saw the parchment, he was filled with both dread and hope. What if this world had once been his own? But in a much farther future—one where humanity was forced into hiding behind towering steel walls, where people had evolved to wield supernatural powers?
It could also be the opposite. He might be in the far reaches of the past—a time before humans had lost the ability to wield those frightening powers. If it was the latter, then it didn't change much. But if it was the former... when would the change happen? Would his family be affected by it? Or would it all be in some distant future?
These thoughts swirled through Eldric's mind before he had even finished reading the paper in his hands.
And after reading its contents, his mind fared much worse.
'What the actual fuck is going on?!'
All his previous theories were instantly thrown out the window. This world was completely alien to his—and it was on the verge of ending, as a cherry on top. Not to mention there was another person out there who had reincarnated, just like him. Although Eldric wasn't exactly too happy with them.
'"Lend a hand"? How about you kiss my ass!'
Like everything he'd discovered so far, the letter said so much yet answered so little. If anything, it only gave him more questions to think about. It was all so damn frustrating.
Corvyn sat behind him on the ragged old chair and cleared his throat. "Well? Did you figure anything out?"
Eldric jumped a little, then turned to face the uniformed Herald. "I forgot you were here..."
The man gave no particular reaction, his amber eyes locked on Eldric's. "The parchment seems to have gotten quite the reaction out of you. You've turned... red."
"Wha—?!"
He quietly cursed his betraying paleness before answering, "I, uh... thought it was a language I read about once, but it seems I was mistaken."
Corvyn's shoulders slanted slightly. "Is that so?"
A polite smile found its way to Eldric's face. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help."
The Sigiled Major smiled. "Alright then—whatever you prefer. But you do know you're missing out on earning the Garrison's favor, don't you?"
Eldric shook his head, returning the man's smile. "If I didn't have your favor, then I doubt I'd be standing here."
Corvyn's smile widened. The small boy seemed to amuse him quite a bit. "That's fair." He pointed at the black piece of metal. "What about the hilt? You haven't taken a look at it yet. I think it had some writing on it as well."
Eldric looked to his side, where he'd left the bladeless sword. 'Oh, right.'
He picked it up, examining it in his hands.
Sure enough, there was more writing engraved on the hilt—also in English. Just three letters were etched into the black metal, written from top to bottom.
Eldric read them under his breath. "A. H. W."
He turned the handle over to see another name, this one written in Vernaculan. "Eryn."
Eldric squinted, addressing the imposing man sitting on the other side of the room. "This one's written in common..."
Corvyn stood, approaching the fair-haired boy. "Yes, Eryn. I believe."
He came closer and politely took the hilt from Eldric's comparatively tiny hands.
He weighed it between his fingers before continuing. "Our specialists spent a while trying to match it to any known historical figure, but the closest we got was some obscure king from the Ages of Liberty."
Corvyn paused for a moment, trying to recall. "His full name was... Eryndol? Eryndak? Something of the sort."
He handed the hilt back to Eldric. "Try infusing it with your Ether. You do know how to do that, correct?"
Eldric nodded. "I'll manage... I think."
Corvyn took a seat once more as Eldric fiddled with the cold, black steel. There was a lock mechanism within it, similar to the one found in the Grimoire.
Some time passed as Eldric made his way through the hilt's mystical maze. It was simpler than the Grimoire's, yet it was more of a test of quantity than it was of skill—most parts of the puzzle simply needed to be ballooned with Ether. If Eldric hadn't trained his circulation as often as he did, he would've passed out several times from Ether exhaustion.
Corvyn sighed, rocking in his squeaky chair. "It's alright if you can't do it. Even I came up short. Some of the generals tried too, and they had no luck either."
Eldric spared him a quick glance before returning to the T-shaped piece of steel. "I'm almost done. Let me focus."
Corvyn's eyes widened slightly. "Done?"
His expression returned to normal for a moment before he sighed. "Sure... why not?"
Eldric could almost swear he heard him mutter something about a monster under his breath.
It took a few more minutes before Eldric finished the lock. All that remained was the last hurdle—another test of Ether capacity. He couldn't lie, curiosity was getting the better of him.
He suddenly shook his head. 'Last time I did something like this, I ended up on the ground foaming at the mouth.'
He braced himself for the worst as he completed the puzzle. The moment he unraveled the lock, reality began to bend and ripple around the metal hilt.
"Shit! Not again!"
Alarmed, Corvyn stood from his chair and, in an instant, appeared beside Eldric.
The next second, everything went white. A familiar searing pain carved into Eldric's heart, forming a specific shape on its surface. This time, he felt the pain on his left wrist as well—it was as though his skin was being torn open and scorched all at once.
Eldric was too lost in agony to notice, but the entire room around them shook. Corvyn looked around as reality itself shrieked. "By the gods... the void is trembling."
He stood there, momentarily stunned. "No wonder he got through the abyss... the boy has a primordial Stigma..."
The room began to tear open at its walls, a dark abyss peering inside. Corvyn quickly pressed his palms against the boy's back. He found it impressive that Eldric was even standing—engravements were mortifyingly painful, even for seasoned Sigiled.
He circulated his Ether through his own body, then let it flow seamlessly into the young boy. Slowly, the space around them began to reassemble itself, though an irritating buzzing sound filled the room.
The walls mended as the void retreated.
Eldric staggered back and nearly fell before catching himself. He looked toward the man beside him with drained eyes. "W-What did you just do?"
In his past experiences with similar events, Eldric had always felt his Ether burning away as something carved into his heart. The same thing had happened this time—except toward the end, something changed. His chest still throbbed with agony, but his Ether had stopped depleting. Whatever was responsible for this torturous ordeal had drawn power from another source.
Corvyn sat down on the ground, exhaling. "Not much. You were about to kill us with the physical manifestation of your Ether, so I used mine to channel the engravement instead."
Eldric gaped. "Physical manifestation? Engravement? What are you talking abou—Ow!"
A sudden burning sensation on his left wrist cut him off. Both he and the straw-haired man turned their attention to his arm.
On it was a sizzling mark—you could even smell the faint aroma of burnt skin spreading through the cramped attic. His wrist was now decorated with a sword passing through a Möbius strip. The blade faced his elbow while the hilt pointed toward his palm. It was a small brand, all things considered—about the size of a nickel.
Alongside the burning pain, he felt a new presence within his heart. He drew his Ether toward it and commanded it outward. The brand on his wrist glowed with a sharp, pale white. The air rippled around his palm once more, and the room shook slightly in response.
Fortunately, reality didn't break too much this time. The walls quickly settled as the object he was summoning took shape. It was a black steel hilt, cold to the touch.
He could feel the piece of metal yearning for his Ether, so he gave in and slowly directed a small amount into it.
The second his Ether touched the black steel, every ounce of it within his body was sucked into the gluttonous object. His pale face turned white as paper, losing all semblance of warmth, while his left wrist flushed crimson as blood rushed beneath the skin.
Once again, space fractured around the hilt before a lusterless black blade erupted from it. It was as if a fragment of the boundless void had taken the shape of a sword and placed itself atop the lonely hilt.
Eldric managed to stay conscious for a few moments before feeling himself slip from low blood pressure.
Just as he was about to collapse, a large hand clutched his shoulder, followed by a surge of Ether flooding into his body.
Corvyn let out a small, resigned chuckle. "And the little behemoth gets a runic Insignia to boot."
Eldric steadied himself, looking at the Sigiled with furrowed brows. 'Another word I've never heard.'
Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head. He knew exactly how to get some much-needed information. "If you don't mind, Great Herald, just how badly do you want to know the contents of that letter?"
Corvyn raised an eyebrow. "Why? Did you change your mind?"
Eldric smiled. "That depends. Are you open to making a deal?"