"Why are you here?"
Instead of answering, Miratheris moved, slowly, to the side of his throne.
The rhythm of her steps was soft, each step leaving faint ripples on the mirror-like floor beneath them.
Her feet were bare this time. The platform heels she once favored were gone. A quiet gesture of respect, or a silent acknowledgment that she was treading inside his mind, not hers.
The hem of her white gown tugged across the glassy surface, its fabric dimmer than before, as though the years had drained some of the light from her.
Still, the faint glow that clung to her skin and her long silver hair that cascaded down her back remained, framing a figure that commanded presence in the curves that spoke of divinity rather than mortality.
When she reached the throne's side, she paused, hands folded loosely before her, gray eyes carrying that same abyssal serenity that once unsettled him.
But this time, there was something gentler in them—remembrance, perhaps.
"I beg forgiveness for intruding so unbidden, my dear Guardian."
Old Ashen's expression froze at the sound of that word.
"...Do not call me that. What I sought was vengeance, not protection."
A soft, wistful smile curved her lips. "...And yet, does intent truly alter the deed? Whether for wrath or duty, you remained. You defied the end itself and fulfilled your Oath. You became my most cherished—my only—guardian."
Ashen turned away, his eyes drifting beyond her, piercing through the mist of dreams until they found his younger self. "Does it matter? Those deeds are dust now. Time erased them, with the world that birthed them."
Miratheris followed his gaze, her voice lowering, touched with quiet sorrow. "But they are not gone, for they dwell within me."
Her eyes softened. "And they do matter—to me."
She lifted her hand, fingers gliding through the air. When they reached him, she ruffled his hair with an almost maternal tenderness.
"So long as I endure, your name, your struggle, your existence shall remain within me; treasured beyond measure. So fret not, my child."
Her gaze shifted once more to the younger Ashen, laughing amidst the chaos, blades and blood whirling around him like a storm. "And who is to say you will not stand for me again? I have never doubted you. Not then, not now. That is why I granted your wish without fear."
A faint smile touched her lips, luminous as the memory itself. "From that moment, and every one since, you have ever been my dear Guardian."
Old Ashen finally lifted his face and met her gray eyes. "I suppose you came because of what just happened?"
Even as he changed the subject, the emptiness in his gaze dimmed slightly… like a man remembering warmth after centuries of cold.
Miratheris's tone hardened, though her voice stayed calm. "Indeed. What you did was reckless. If not for my concealment, She may have already noticed you."
Her eyes drifted over him, to the blood seeping through his clothes, the stains dark against his skin. "And as you know, with my current self maintaining the planet's Shroud, my intervention was limited. I could only act through equivalent exchange."
Ashen shook his head, tone detached. "I knew the risk when I shared that knowledge with my other self. I did it anyway. He'll manage."
Miratheris tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "And you think it was worth it?"
He nodded faintly. "...Back then, every misfortune felt like proof that I was cursed. I kept swallowing the anger with no direction to aim it, until it rotted inside me. This was… release. Besides," his lips twitched into a faint grin, "I'm curious too. I want to see what choices he'll make now that he's been shaken awake."
Miratheris's own smile mirrored his. "As am I. It will be... intriguing." Her tone softened slightly. "But do not repeat such recklessness. The backlash alone will keep you asleep for months."
Ashen gave a low chuckle. "Wouldn't make much difference. In this form, I'm barely functional anyway. Now that I've regained a soul, his body can't handle my descent for more than a heartbeat. Hopefully, by the time I wake, we'll be able to fight side by side."
Her expression gentled. "As long as you both survive, that is enough for me… Now, rest well."
She turned, her steps leaving ripples in the mirrored ground. After a few paces, she stopped and glanced back. "And, Ashen... do not underestimate Her. You may have defeated Her once, but I fear we have not yet seen all that She is."
Old Ashen scoffed. "She will fall again, no matter what tricks She conjures. As long as I draw breath, She won't. That is the eternal fate of Velth—"
He stopped when Miratheris vanished and reappeared before him, her finger pressing gently against his lips.
"I know you fear nothing," she said quietly, "but do not speak Her name. I may not always be here to silence it." Her touch lingered a moment before sliding away.
"Call Her the Outer God of Fated Freedom, the Mother of Decisions Not Chosen, or any other epithet you prefer—just not Her true name. The younger one is far from ready for what follows."
Ashen exhaled through his nose, voice weakening. "...You're right. I forgot what it meant to fear speaking their names. Been a long time since I've cared about those dogs."
His head slumped slightly, exhaustion finally overtaking him. "Don't worry, I'll be asleep for a while anyway."
Miratheris sighed softly and covered her eyes with a hand. "Only you would call beings who can twist the laws of reality mere dogs…"
When she lowered her hand, he was already asleep.
⛧⛧⛧
Wrath Domain, Beyond the Wall
November 30, 2025
Clip-clop… clip-clop…
The steady rhythm of horse hooves rang slowly, followed by the constant sound of carriage wheels.
Ashen followed the carriages carrying the injured soldiers alongside his escort unit.
It had been a week since his last battlefield, and as the general promised, he was included in the escort team that was going back to the Ashbastion.
The way back had, of course, been anything but peaceful. Thankfully, the worst of it had already passed, and the convoy was now less than a day away from their destination.
'Status.'
As he walked, Ashen decided to check his status screen.
==============================
Name/Arrival date: Ashen Hart - 2025/02/11
Sex/Age: Male/26
Height/Weight: 191 cm / 88 kg
Current condition:Medium circuit permanent damage
Pathway: 7th Step: Dreamer
Thema: Bellator
Affiliation: Atlas Defense/Bloodwall Army/Wrath Domain.
Title: None
[2. Traits]
—Forged Willpower
—Observant
—Liminal Dreamer
[3. Physical Level]
Strength: E | Endurance: E+ | Agility: E+
Perception: D+ | Stamina: D- | Mana: F+
[4. Abilities]
4.1 Innate Powers:
—Beholder's Eyes
—Twin souls
—Equivalent Exchange (0)
4.2 Path Skills:
—Lucid Dreamweaving (Skilled-)
—Trance (Skilled-)
4.3 Other skills:
—Spear Thrust (Skilled+)
—Spear Slash (Basic+)
—Spear Parry (Basic+)
—Heartforge Cycle (Basic+)
—Grafted fighting style (Skilled-)
—Clean (Skilled-)
[5. Cognitive Depth (Thoughts, Mindset, Disposition)]
— Vigilant / Indomitable / Determined
==============================
The first thing he zoned in on was his traits. '...It's gone.'
"Haah."
He let out a long, freeing sigh as he confirmed the disappearance of the Strategically Idle trait. 'Finally got rid of that.'
The next thing that caught his attention was the Steadfast trait, or rather, its evolution.
==============================
Forged Willpower
Once skittish and easily swayed, now shaped by steady work and quiet repetition. Progress arrives not as revelation but as accumulation; small, relentless corrections that harden skill and habit until competence becomes second nature.
==============================
He wasn't overly surprised by this. What he'd gone through and what he'd put himself through would require far more than steadiness to see through.
Still, he managed a faint smile as he remembered how this trait had come all the way from Perpetually Distracted.
Next on the list was Observant.
==============================
Observant
Keenly attentive to details and the environment, often noticing subtle cues that others might overlook.
==============================
This was obviously a byproduct of his hyper-vision. But the trait's description only extended to its natural state, not the Interpreter nor the Conversationalist.
That was how unnatural these states he'd created were. Even the system didn't recognize them as stable techniques.
Finally, his final and new trait was called Liminal Dreamer, and he had some mixed feelings about this one.
==============================
Liminal Dreamer
A person who exists between dreams and reality, capable of shaping the dreamscape at will. Their perception of the waking world may falter, leaving them occasionally adrift and uncertain of what is truly real.
==============================
…He knew abusing Lucid Dreamweaving as much as he did was bound to have consequences, but he was willing to take the risk. It was all he had, after all.
But he figured this was just a light handicap compared to what he'd gained. 'I'll find a solution before I become completely delirious, I promise.'
His physical level was coming along nicely with all the training and constant fighting, except for mana, of course.
That had always been his Achilles' heel.
Even when he combined the ManaForge Breath, the Circulation Method, and the Mana Compression Method, creating a brand new technique—Heartforge Cycle—it was still not enough.
He'd thought that after consuming the Whisp, he'd be able to absorb the excess mana and fix this issue, but the enormous amount of mana was all absorbed by his Beholder's Eyes.
He could feel it compressed there, just behind his pupils in an infinitely small point.
But he dared not touch it, not with his current sloppy mana control. He was 99% sure he would just end up detonating the point and his brain alongside it.
Path skills didn't have any major changes aside from steadily evolving to Skilled- since he hadn't advanced in his path yet.
But he felt that Skilled- was still too low for what he was able to do with his skills, and wondered what more was required of him to reach higher stages of mastery.
The Trance skill had saved his life countless times in the last five months, not to mention the countless ways he'd used Lucid Dreamweaving.
'No use complaining. The system's assessment is objective, so I should just keep going as I am.' He nodded to himself, then let his eyes drift to the other skills section.
Aside from the evolution of his basic spear moves and the new mana method, Grafted Fighting Style was the new entry.
This one showed up after he started that Perfect Puppet project, where he stole techniques and grafted them onto himself.
And with every new technique, it kept upgrading until it reached Skilled-.
Finally, the last section had only one change: his mindset had evolved from merely Persevering to Indomitable.
This change happened recently, after he received his twin soul's revelation.
Though his disposition hadn't changed since the last shift, Ashen wasn't surprised, since a person's nature changing once was already quite rare.
But further change wouldn't be impossible if his mindset stayed Indomitable.
With nothing more to see, Ashen finally closed the status window.
Eventually, he lifted his head, and the Ashbastion was finally in sight.
'Alice... I'll finally see you again.'