Kernoel77
patreon
Chapter 148: Star of Hope
🕑 Added 2023-06-09 14:18:11 +0000 UTCChapter 148: Star of Hope
/Names are curious things, and their importance in different cultures is even more curious.
To the golems, your surname is everything. Whatever your parents call you is little more than a noise to get your attention. What matters is whether you are of the lower crust, or of the bedrock, for example. You may earn a good surname, yet some people still judge you by your birth.
Elves are also picky about their names. Often, they will tell you what they do. Leafsmith. Treeshaper. Splitter. Their nobility exists, but is not chosen by birthright. Instead, it is determined by fierce competition. Names are given, certainly, but then you must prove yourself worthy.
Dwarves love lineages. Your clan determines your allies and enemies, your friendships and companions. Not your direction in life, and not necessarily your standing, but it does dictate how people view you.
Yet what fascinates me even more is the aliases the system grants us. Nicknames, certainly, fall into there. But other things do as well.
There may only ever be a single name registered for you within the system. That name can be as long as you wish, essentially, though anything above reason will usually net you a few annoyed glances when people have to process your paperwork. However, since aliases aren’t usually used other than by certain people, nothing like that applies to them.
The system apparently keeps track of what people like to call us. Sometimes, even insults may fall into that particular department, though such cases are rarer. There have also been reported differences in the speed of aliases being registered. Some only took a single mention, others many.
Perhaps that is due to the intent of using that name again. It could also be based on how truthfully a name describes an individual. We do not know much about it yet. The only thing that’s clear, is that aliases have to be actively in use by a person, or they will disappear.
If the person who uses an alias dies, for example, it will fade after a time. Again, that time can be weeks or months. It depends on how much you grieve the loss, among other things. But it will vanish.
The same goes for aliases not in use anymore. If someone begins using another nickname for you, the alias may disappear over time. This is probably in place to prevent cluttering. Of course, you can also enable viewing all past aliases, but it is not recommended.
Finally, I want to give a small piece of my own mind. Your name is yours to choose. No matter what your people think, your culture thinks, your guardians think. A name is everyone’s own choice. There’s a reason that changing it is not too much of a hassle. Make sure people call you something you’re comfortable with.
Be kind to yourself. That includes having a name you enjoy being called by./
An excerpt from “Nebulous Names” by Melina Kalos.
- - - - - -
Explaining the reason why he’d been chased by people in lab coats to Kintra took surprisingly little time. Perhaps, by now, she was simply used to his antics. Mercury smiled a little at the thought. It was about time he got a reputation as being a little insane.
He spent the last few days in Treyno enjoying himself. Sunbathing on the roof made for a great change of pace to the absolutely miserable experience his time in the ashen plains has been. But now, he was finally back, and could put it behind himself. Maybe.
Slowly, time ticked by, until his self-set page of relaxation was over. His goodbyes to Kintra were a lot less somber this time. He promised to come back soon-ish. Probably within a year. Or so he hoped, at least.
Kintra also joined his little nation of Logston, which enabled a very neat function, allowing them to see each other’s overall health. Not as a bar, just a general status. [Healthy], [Injured], that kinda deal. Mercury hoped they’d never need to use it, but he knew that he was probably gonna get himself nearly killed again.
All in a day’s work, right?
He smirked at the thought for just a second before hugging Kintra goodbye as best as he could. She traced the starry lines across his fur for a moment, then ruffled his head, and waved him off at the city gates.
The road was familiar to Mercury. Not intimately, not at all. But it was still familiar. He’d travelled it once before. Hopefully, this time there wouldn’t be any bandits doing shady things.
- - -
A few days into the journey, he encountered a small group of bandits. This time, however, they… legitimately tried to mug him. Like, honestly, good on them. Equal opportunity muggers, who thought he was a true kin.
It went very poorly for them. Mercury, on the other hand, got two pales and a couple dims out of it. And obviously, the bandits got a few bruises and sore muscles. Nothing too horrible, except maybe some bite marks and scratches. But they wouldn’t die. Probably.
Then, for a while, the journey continued without any events. The roads were calm. He walked past a couple merchants, but none he knew. Until, one afternoon he went to bed, he reappeared in his dream realm.
The entry into it was honestly extremely anticlimactic. He just went to bed on the blanket, getting ready for some of the best sleep of his life, when he reappeared in the vast grassy plains.
A lot about them was different, though. As in, very different.
Firstly, the sky had changed. It was no longer blue as it had been back on Earth. Nor was the sun alone in it anymore.
Instead, the sky was blanketed with colours. One edge turned a dark crimson, the other a vibrant pink. The colours blended into each other, dying the sky as though there were two simultaneous sunsets, one deeper than the other.
Yet, despite all that, three bodies hung in the Sky, none of them actually setting. One of them was a large ball of silver, the sun. It had changed, and Mercury knew very instinctively that it had changed because he had changed.
In addition to the, now silver, sun, there was a small, pale moon. It hung further off, seemingly much higher in the sky. Next to it, there was also a single star, which looked a lot like the nexus had, just a silvery-purple colour. He could feel that a bunch of strands of his dream hung about the two things, with them acting like anchors.
And with those anchors, his dream had grown far more complex. The air was more dense, the grass more real, and everything felt more… firm. If someone tried to invade this place now, they would struggle. If someone he wanted to allow in sought to find it, they would have a much easier time.
Still there was more. Blow the silver sun, Mercury could see a mass of black steel. It seemed far away, as if it hung in armory in the sky, but he could call it back down to himself with a simple thought. When he did, it shifted, and molded into a much more familiar shape. A set of dark claws, his Dream of Starvation.
They’d go here to repair themselves, it seemed. Which made sense, given that this was his mind. He put them on for a few moments, and they were comfortable. He could somehow still feel the soft grass through the metal. Everything here was somewhat part of himself, he supposed.
After a moment, he let the item go and glanced around. The landscape was bathed in new light, and was much more beautiful. Things had also grown closer. The fountain, especially, seemed like it was within reach, but the castle of glass also seemed less distant.
In fact, he was reasonably sure he could go there now if he wished. But he didn’t. They were beautiful, but ultimately, just constructs of his mind. These days, he found he would be much more comfortable with the soft grass underneath him. Perhaps the fountain would find a use if Ruvah ever joined him in here, but that might be some time yet.
There were still more things Mercury noticed, namely himself. He looked much more like his outside body now, except glowing. Well, not glowing, more like… starry?
The stripes on his fur, which outside of the dream now shone faintly like a starry sky, had insane depth here. The kind where it seemed like you were looking into space through them, and they’d shift if you moved. It was… gorgeous, but in a very eldritch way.
If he could have seen his own eyes, Mercury might have noticed that they were very similar to the stripes in that regard. The detail in them was almost infinite, like fractals folding onto each other; no matter how closely one looked, there was always more to discover. They were something worthy of an adventure by themselves.
And finally, there was one more thing in the sky. A star. A very dark one. Borderline black. And he knew what it was, too.
‘Whisperkid?’ he thought up at the star.
The answer was first in a radiance, a bright glow of darkness. Black stripes danced happily across the sky. ‘Yes! Yes me!’ they thought back to him, happiness lacing their thoughts.
Mercury paused for a few moments. He’d been reasonably sure he’d hallucinated that whole conversation back then, but… it suddenly seemed much more unlikely. ‘How did you get here?’ he asked, tentatively.
‘Followed advice! Defined myself. Then, looked for advice-giver. Looked for a very long time, and now found!’ they thought to him, with an underlying message of loneliness now being broken.
Ah. They’d found him again because he was more of a beacon in the dark now. For a minute, he wondered what was out there, beyond the weave, but he discarded the thought. Instead, he laced his mind with welcoming. The kid had been a little weird, sure, but seemed good at heart, so they were okay to stay here, for now.
‘Well, how do you feel? Found your own way?’ he asked gently, offering a warm smile.
The star in the sky answered with a glow of dark light. ‘Yes,’ they chirped, ‘very myself. Very me. Am a star!’
‘I can see that,’ Mercury thought back with a light laugh. ‘Then, what will you do now?’
The response he got was tinged with confusion. ‘Be… a star?’ the kid thought, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
‘So you’d like to just hang out there?’ Mercury asked back, doing the cat equivalent of arching his eyebrows.
‘Yes! You have a good sky!’ the voice replied with glee, flitting across the firmament as if to show off what it meant.
[Individual |Whisperstar| has offered to engage connection via weave with |Mercury Rainfall Starlight|. Allow sky-gate?]
Mercury could tell that even <Seeker of Secrets> was struggling to define what it meant in such a small message. Like it was going through the words he was familiar with and didn’t find proper ones, so it combined them and laced them heavily with meaning.
The “sky-gate” wouldn’t really be a gate at all. Instead, it would simply allow Whisperstar’s mindscape to be accessed through his, and vice-versa. The gate could also be shut at any time, and could only be created by two willing individuals. There was no harm associated with it, unless the other person’s mind was heavily damaged.
Even then, the main danger was a collapse of the gate if you didn’t help, which would, at worst, cause minor damage to your weave. So minor it should recover in a few days or less.
Mentally, Mercury accepted the prompt, and felt the small bit of darkness coming from the star increasing. Its shape grew… maybe more solid? Just slightly though, the change was nothing major. Yet, the waves of happiness his starry friend sent over their connection sure were.
‘Thank you, Mercury!’ they thought happily, the glee so palpable it almost smacked into Mercury.
‘No problem, little Star,’ the mopaaw replied. If he could make someone so happy just by accepting them as they were and giving them room to express that, why wouldn’t he, after all?
For a few more minutes, his sky was lit up with black bits of movement, the constant waves of happiness brightening his mood without any distinct words coming alongside them. It was infectious, in a good way, and Mercury found it almost hard to not go along. But there were still more things to do.
When he finally had the mental space to spare, the air shimmered in front of him, as someone else entered his dream. For the first time, old Uunrahzil wasn’t just there, waiting for him, but actively stepped into the place with his permission.
‘Greetings, mine tri’ht,’ the old one thought, their mind heavy with a deep respect and pride for their student.
‘Greetings, old Uunrahzil,’ Mercury replied with a small bow, writing out a feeling of acknowledgement and of completing an achievement.
Silence reigned between the two of them for a few moments, as they basked in each other’s emotions. It was special to Mercury. He was used to… disappointing his teachers. Or not respecting them in the first place. Yet, not only had old Uunrahzil earned a bow, they’d also taught him many valuable lessons.
‘I see thee hath become more,’ the old one eventually broke the silence. ‘Thineself, and thine dream, too, this one means.’ There was a hint of curiosity written in their thoughts, mixed in with slight surprise and a deeper sense of memory Mercury couldn’t quite place.
‘This one has,’ Mercury replied, giving a wave of humility. ‘My dream has grown more firm, I believe. And I have, as well.’
‘Young Mercury. I wish thee to know that there has never been a tri’ht of mine who has gone so far above and beyond my expectations. Thou art a treasure. And I could not think of someone more worthy to have found in my time scouring the void.’
The thoughts spilled from old Uunrahzil so suddenly, Mercury had hardly been prepared. And yet, he knew that each word was genuine. They had been considered properly, weighed, and deemed to be completely true.
‘All of me agrees on that,’ they added.
Somehow, those words laid even more heavily in the void of the dreamscape. As though saying that alone meant a thousand voices of agreement. Perhaps more. It was almost enough to overwhelm Mercury, but not in a bad way at all.
‘I- I don’t know what to say,’ he replied.
‘You do not have to say anything at all,’ old Uunrahzil replied. ‘We know.’ They let the words hang in the air for a moment. ‘At your young age, you have acquired an anchor. Bound the weave tight around it, and manifested a dream that does not need a dreamer. You have acquired an overseer, a nascent will of yours which will keep the dream safe from invaders. You have woven things far beyond your years. Things that many weavers would consider an impossibility.’
‘And then you have gone another step beyond,’ they said, a smile so thick on their lips Mercury could hear it in their thoughts. ‘You have found someone. A thing of the void, a hungry nightmare that seeks to devour, and you have given it a self, and a purpose. You have become an anchor not only to yourself, but to others. Without even knowing it, you have stepped into mine own legacy. For that, we are eternally grateful.’
As they finished the sentence, old Uunrahzil bowed. To Mercury. To young Cat. It was an expression of respect so great, that it drove tears into Mercury’s eyes.
‘Uunrahzil, I-’
‘Old Uunrahzil,’ they corrected with a smile. ‘But you do not have to explain yourself. You owe me no thanks for this, I have simply told you what this one thinks, perhaps what all of me thinks. You have pierced the first veil of gold, and then the second of nothing. Perceived the strands that make up your mind and bound them to yourself. In a way, you are now more you, and that is a feat no one can take from thee,’ they thought.
‘And yet, even more, you have grasped how to weave things into being. Not tearing others apart, not weaving yourself tighter, not simply bringing change to what is there. You have created, young Mercury. Dreamt something into being. A task I thought may take you many chapters, accomplished in not even one.’ They shook their head a little, writing stunned disbelief.
Mercury could tell how much those words meant to them, as well. The fact that he’d used his very first act of weaving to create. Even if it was just a silly stack of paper. And although his second act had been destroying the Crimson Sun, he still made something from it.
An “overseer” from the sun, a protector of his dream, and an “anchor” from the nexus. Something to hold the dream together, even if he was awake.
‘Young Mercury, you are weaving into being a dream this one had almost given up on. A dream we thought so distant, it was out of reach. And yet, here you are. Granting us a chance, a bit of hope. A sky decorated with a star, a sun hanging in it, and an anchor, woven from something shattered.’ Again, they shook their head.
‘We thank you.’
They let the words hang in the air for a long while. Mercury didn’t answer. Old Uunrahzil didn’t force him. There was enough time, more than enough to simply wait.
Occasionally, Mercury could feel playful thoughts flying his way from Whisperstar, but they were small invites rather than distractions. He didn’t mind.
Instead, he simply spent a long time basking in old Uunrahzil’s praise. It’d been more than they probably ever said to him and it had all been so… kind. A smile wormed its way onto his face.
It felt so nice. To be acknowledged, appreciated, and respected. He hadn’t expected for this to earn him such an honest thanks from his teacher, his tri’ht, yet it had. Something about what he did was clearly special to them, and he was more than glad to have done it for them.
Most importantly, he felt that there was no debt hanging in the air. Old Uunrahzil had done many things for him. Taught him ihn’ar, let him realize who he was, helped save a friend, and pointed the way towards saving his life. Despite all that, they had not thought he owed them a debt for a moment.
All of it was freely given. And now, he was freely giving back, in a way. There were no expectations in the air between them, simply trust. Full faith that the other person had their best interests at heart.
Trust given was trust earned. Mercury could feel those words were what Uunrahzil was radiating. A sense of trust so absolute it seemed any hardship could shatter against it.
‘Mercury, wouldst thou accept a name from me?’ Uunrahzil asked into the silence.
He hesitated for only half a moment. ‘I would.’
‘Then I would like to give you one. To us, you are Yr-en-zel. Yr’enzel.’
The syllables rang out heavily in Mercury’s mind the first time. Old Uunrahzil usually added translations for their language, but this time, he did not need one. The word itself denominated him, defined him, made him more real. It was as though someone wrapped a shawl around his neck on a cold winter day.
‘Thank you, old Uunrahzil,’ he said. The name had already registered as an alias on his status sheet.
And he knew what it meant. He was Yr’enzel. Star of Hope.
