Rosano walked through the scorching desert, trailing his wayward partner. Mysha had taken him on a wild goose chase and Rosano had long ago learned there was no point arguing with her when she got like this. His best friend was insane, her mind broken beyond all shadow of a doubt, but he’d learned to trust her minor bouts of lucidity. It was why he’d followed her to Manchester and infiltrated the Agroth residence on her whim. Now he was walking through Haadran’s deserts and spending a fortune on barriers to keep the oppressive concepts at bay.
It wasn't the first time they’d followed prey into a fallen mirror world, though Rosano had to admit he’d never been on one so hostile to human life. Still, while he trusted Mysha’s thought process, he didn’t understand it.
“Why are you so certain Arthur Ward is still alive? We saw the Originator die."
Like the three times he’d asked the question before, he didn’t expect an answer this time either. They’d been observing the young man's battle from a few miles away, scouting out their targets' skills. The first thing you learned in this field of work was to never go after your target the first time they were vulnerable, and definitely not before observing them in action first.
Rosano had to admit they’d significantly underestimated the Originator. The man was a menace on the battlefield and while he was clearly new to his skills, he wielded them savagely enough that it hardly mattered. None of that power mattered though, in the face of someone like Giant's Bane. Rosano had watched the woman punch through Arthur's chest—seen the light of life fade away from his eyes. And yet here he was, trudging through a planet that was actively trying to kill him because he couldn’t say no to the woman he’d once loved. Or whatever was left of her, at least.
“He’s alive. I’m certain of it.” Mysha suddenly speaking up startled him enough that he almost tripped on his feet. “Giant’s Bane is a stupid name. I know Solana. Hell would freeze over before she murdered someone for monetary gain.”
This was the first time Rosano had heard Mysha talk of the woman. “You know Solana? Since when,” he asked, surprised. Being partnered puppets under Lady Melania, there were no secrets between them. At least that’s what Rosano had thought, but evidently, that wasn’t the case.
“I met her for the first time four years ago,” Mysha said quietly, almost whispering.
Like a puzzle piece, the single sentence completed the picture that had been troubling him for a while. Four years ago, Mysha had been sent to assassinate Lady Melania's adolescent cousin, Simon. Let it not be said the evil witch discriminated with her targets. It was an easy job, one she’d done countless times. And yet Mysha had failed and returned to the manor after going missing for a month. It was the greatest failure on her record and she’d suffered for it, forced to undergo a dozen additional surgeries to improve her body. Rosano had always wondered what had happened on that mission.
“The alchemist Jarel hired to treat his son was Solana Elantris,” Mysha revealed, chuckling, “I only found that out when she had me dangling by the scruff of my neck. She could have killed me— sometimes, I wish she had, but for some reason, she spared my life. Solana's the reason why I can talk to you like this Rose. These minor bouts of lucidity. Using her alchemy, she isolated a tiny sliver of my consciousness, cut it off from all the bullshit Melania put in our heads. When I’m like this, I’m diminished, I don’t know who I am, or what I’ve done, but it's the tiny bit of freedom the half-giant managed to grant me.”
“She knew I was a broken woman, some sick noble's latest experiment, and yet she did everything she could, spent an earl's ransom to help me. Maybe if my directives hadn’t forced me to escape the alchemist so soon, she should’ve been able to end this nightmare four years ago.”
“So Solana's an… ally them?” Rosano asked.
“Not exactly,” Mysha chuckled, “but I know she would never betray the Originator for all the riches in the universe. The damn half-giant has a hero complex a mile wide. The fool I know would’ve died trying to protect him.”
Rosano frowned. By her own admission, the Mysha he was currently talking to was a fractured fragment of a broken mind. How much of what she was saying could actually be trusted and more importantly, how much of it had been left uncorrupted by Lady Melania since Solana’s treatment. Rosano sighed in resignation. He was just so tired of it all. Why was he even pretending like he had a choice here? Now that the seed of doubt had been planted— that the Originator might have miraculously survived— Rosano could feel his directives start activating. He would have to continue the hunt, chasing this lead to either success or failure. Perhaps this would all be a massive waste of time and maybe it wouldn’t.
Solana seemed to be Mysha’s good luck charm. She’d helped her once before. Rosano didn’t want to get his hopes up, but it seemed the remaining bit of human in him hadn’t kicked the bucket yet. Had fate finally granted them the gift of sweet salvation? Only time would tell.
~~~
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Entering the Lesson Cube took far less effort than Arthur suspected. There was no fanfare, no complex spell Arthur had to master first. All he did was take a seat against a large boulder and trickle some of his ether into the epic item. There was a brief moment of weightlessness, a strange sensation where his permission was requested, and then he was somewhere else.
Arthur opened his eyes to a familiar room, one that he’d thought he’d never see again. He was hit by a wave of confusing emotion and deja vu like he'd somehow travelled through space and time and returned to the past. It was the classroom he’d spent two years of his high school life in, perfectly recreated down to the doodles scratched into his desk and the perpetually wilting plant on the window frame. Arthur took everything in for a moment before turning his attention to the only other occupant in the room.
There was an elf standing behind the teacher's desk, hands clasped behind his back. Signs of age on an elf were rare, they were already a long-lived race, and high stats only exacerbated that fact. This elf, however, was positively ancient, with a head of white hair and skin as wrinkled as old parchment.
“I always like to give new users a chance to acclimate before introducing myself.”
The elf's voice matched his appearance soft with a slight creak to it. Despite everything though. Arthur could sense a deep well of strength from the elf, a quiet dignity Arthur knew he’d never be able to match until he had a few centuries under his belt, the kind that only came with age.
“My name is Cyprus and this is the second of thirteen copies I made of my consciousness before I breathed my last," the old elf introduced himself, "though we may never be able to meet in life, fate saw fit to make you my student. Can I have the pleasure of knowing your name, or whatever mode of address you prefer, young Originator.”
Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise. “You can tell. How?”
Cyprus smiled warmly. “Child. If I could not see the true nature of my students, I could hardly call myself a teacher now could I.”
“True nature. What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing so complicated as you might be thinking,” Cyprus replied, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Age has taught me many things, one of its lessons the ability to see more than most. Your physique for starters is too perfect; your proportions are in flawless balance. It’s not the kind of body you get from training alone and so it can only be caused by magic. With everything else I can see. I can confidently say you went through a metamorphosis of some kind. Very recently as well if I’m not mistaken. While there can be other explanations for that, I settled on the one I believed was true, and you just confirmed it for me.”
Cyprus smiled. “The way you carry yourself suggests you’ve studied hand-to-hand combat, one that focuses just as much on your legs as it does your fist. How am I so far? Any mistakes.”
“No, keep going.” Arthur had never met anyone who could read body language so well.
Cyprus chuckled. “Most users get annoyed when I do this, so it’s a welcome change. In all honesty, however, there’s little more I can say without reading your aura. Physiques enhanced by stats aren’t the most susceptible to change brought on by habit. I can make a guess that you recently learned how to use a polearm of some kind— perhaps a spear or a halberd, but saying anything more would just be gambling.”
Arthur stared at the old elf in suspicion. “I think you’re just saying that for my peace of mind.”
“Perhaps I am. You’ve yet to introduce yourself. I can’t keep calling you Originator.”
“My name's Arthur Ward. So how does this place work? And what was that you mentioned about all those users before me?”
“Arthur. I once knew a human by the same name. If you end up half the man he was, you’ll end up changing the realm. As for what I meant earlier, you are the seventeenth individual to pick up this lesson cube. Fourteen of those users allowed me to remember and learn from our lessons, while three chose to have themselves stripped from my record.”
“While you remain the sole user of this tool, I will remember our sessions for continuity in your learning to ensure you receive maximum benefits, though this information will be locked away if someone else accesses the cube and purged if they try to search for it. Once you have finished learning from me, you will face the same choice as those before you. Allow me to remember everything we spoke of or remove it from my records forever.”
Arthur considered everything Cyprus had said, brows forward in thought. “Isn’t that a sad existence? Always waiting for a new student, the sanctity of your mind beholden to their whims. And what…. there's twelve more of you out there.”
“Eleven now. The ninth was destroyed two millennia ago. Only the first three are true lesson cubes though. The others only contain pre-recorded courses with minimal interaction ability.”
"As for my existence being bleak, it depends on who you ask. I chose to create these cubes in my final years. No one forced or coerced me. It gave me the chance to pass on my craft and learn from beyond death's doors. Even if some of my memories have been erased I know far more now than I did in life. Waiting for new students isn’t a problem either. I enter into hibernation when no one's using the cube. The time between sessions passes in an instant. Quite the contrary, many would envy my existence. And if I ever do become bored of this, I programmed a self-destruct switch on all of my cubes.”
“You really covered all your bases, didn’t you?”
“I’d be the biggest fool in the world if I put myself in such a vulnerable position without a way out. I know I may look young but I did reach 2,384 years of age before I died. Live a millennium and you tend to learn a thing or two,” Cyprus said, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively.
“Cracking good jokes not being one of them, I presume,” Arthur deadpanned.
“Tough crowd. I’ll have you laughing soon enough. So what exactly is it you want to learn Arthur? I’m guessing you know my specialities.”
“Edward did tell me I’d be spread thin pursuing two crafts. How good are you at rune scribing?”
Cyprus grinned widely “How good am I at rune scribing? Young man, I was the only person skilled enough to look at the System's mainframe when it needed maintenance.”
Arthur stared at the elf incredulously. “Isn’t it dangerous then? I’m surprised they allowed you to create these cubes with the knowledge you possess."
Cyprus chuckled. “Hah. They’ve got me wrapped up in so many contracts, I can hardly even think about what I saw, never mind talk about it.”
“And those contracts still work even after your death.”
Cyprus smiled grimly. “The best ones always do. I have a feeling we'll get along quite well.”
Links to the audiobooks.
Etherious: Originator
-
Here
Here
Here
?Goodreads
Here and read 8 chapters ahead.
Patreon
