Lindon’s excitement sank into his stomach. “How are you feeling?”
[My condition is functional. No significant abnormalities to report.]
Collective sounds of disappointment went up from the humans in the room. Eithan placed a hand on Lindon’s shoulder.
“His personality could still recover,” Eithan said sympathetically.
Lindon agreed, but he wasn’t optimistic. “There are adjustments we can try…but the more we change, the less time we have.”
“This labyrinth contains tools from some of the greatest Soulsmiths of all time,” Eithan said.
“Good. We’ll look for anything that might help.”
Lindon turned to Dross and focused, the blur in his vision retreating for a moment. “I’m going to fix you,” he promised.
[Unnecessary. I am largely operational.]
“Don’t you remember what you used to be like?”
[I recall. My idiosyncrasies were left over from the component spirits used to construct me. They added nothing to my function, and I think you will find my operations significantly improved.]
Dross’ form was the same as before—one large eye, one mouth filled with sharp-looking teeth, and two boneless pseudopod arms. The only difference was the pale gray cast to his skin.
But his expression was blank. He spoke like a construct reporting exact words.
It gripped Lindon’s gut with grief, as though he’d lost Dross all over again. But there was still hope, so he kept his words clipped and straightforward.
“The idiosyncrasies were important to me,” Lindon said. “If you come up with a way to restore them, tell me immediately.”
[Acknowledged.] A faint frown appeared on Dross’ face. [I will attempt to reconstruct my persona in accordance with my memories.]
“You do that.” Lindon looked to the rest of them, and he could almost see them. “In the meantime, let’s get ready to leave.”
“Not much to get ready,” Yerin said. “Got my sword, got my void key.”
Mercy dashed for the door. “I do need to get ready! Give me two minutes!”
“Someone probably ought to catch Ziel,” Eithan noted.
Lindon was still watching Dross, looking for a shred of the individual he used to be. “I’ll tell Orthos and Little Blue. In the meantime, Dross, what do you know about the labyrinth?”
[Information requested: history of the western labyrinth,] Dross intoned.
But nothing happened. Usually, when Dross spoke like that, Lindon’s mind was taken over by a vision.
[Error: synchronization denied. No access available.] Dross shook himself. [I apologize. That was very strange. I will rely solely on my own memory.]
That statement piqued Lindon’s curiosity. “Were you not always relying on your own memory?”
[I…do not believe so. My apologies. My memories are more fragmented than I realized.]
Lindon renewed his resolve to fix the spirit.
[What you call the labyrinth is also known as the western labyrinth, the Dreadgod labyrinth, the First Tomb, the forgotten maze, and several other titles that may or may not apply to this location. It extends all over the world, but its largest—and presumably most central—hub is located under the land you call Sacred Valley.
[Records of its purpose and contents are incomplete and often contradictory. It is called the birthplace of the Dreadgods, but other claims dispute this, suggesting that it was a place where samples of the Dreadgods were studied. Records seem to agree that it was the birthplace of the lesser copies known as dreadbeasts.
[Studies refer to an entity sealed in the labyrinth known as Subject One, though this individual’s true identity is unknown. Subject One is referred to alternately as “it” and “he,” implying it to possess intelligence and identity of some kind. He is always referenced in conjunction with hunger madra, and is either its source or its first host.
[Inside, we should find creations of hunger madra, as well as relics and security measures left by the Soulsmiths of old, many of which will be extraordinarily dangerous. I am reminded of the Ghostwater facility, only I will have no map and no security access. And this location is known as a labyrinth primarily due to its impossibility to navigate.]
As Lindon absorbed this information, he looked over to Eithan. “How long will it take us to get there?”
Eithan paused a moment before gesturing to the massive windows. “We’re here. We don’t want to head any further into Sacred Valley in case the field reactivates.”
Yerin leaned closer to look into Lindon’s eyes, but Lindon didn’t acknowledge his own blindness. He was recovering anyway.
“All right, then let’s go,” Lindon said. “Without the suppression field, we should be able to move quickly. The sooner we’re in and out, the better.”
With luck, they could move full speed in the labyrinth. They might even be able to make it to the bottom and back up in less than a day.
Though Lindon doubted it.
[Yes, by all means let us rush headfirst into danger,] Dross said. [There is no way that it will result in all of our deaths. Ha ha.]
The delivery was so dry and toneless that it made Lindon shiver.
“Dross, you can stop that.”
[I was emulating my previous persona.]
“I know. It’s…unnerving.”
[Acknowledged. Next time, I will attempt a more accurate impression.]
9
Information restricted: Personal Record 1126.
Authorization required to access.
Authorization confirmed: 008 Ozriel.
Beginning record…
The Abidan didn’t know what to do with Ozmanthus Arelius.
Even his initial compatibility tests came back with unprecedented results. He had maximum potential in six of the seven Divisions. It quickly became clear that he could inherit the Mantle of any Judge.
Except one: Suriel. He had no compatibility with the Phoenix at all, as though his very existence was in opposition to the concept of restoration.
Naturally, Ozmanthus was not satisfied with these results.
He dedicated himself to fixing, building, creating, healing, and restoring. He couldn’t join the Phoenix Division, but he worked with them as closely as possible. He thought that surely his skill in crafting and engineering would be his pathway forward, but when that never worked, he branched out.
He learned the arts of many worlds, took on ancient riddles, repaired governments and relationships. He lived for a time as a pacifist monk wandering the streets of Sanctum, though he quickly grew bored with that.
No matter what he did, the nature of his origin didn’t change.
Not that anyone else from the Abidan minded. Warriors and killers could both be put to work in the service of order, and if Ozmanthus didn’t want to bring death, there was always his other great talent of detection.
The Spider of the Abidan works to find instances of chaos and disruption among the Iterations, and to bind the Abidan together with communication. Ozmanthus joined his Third Division and was declared the successor to Telariel in record time.
In this capacity, he continued to have a special fascination with the Phoenix Division, as they were those who could do what he could not. He struck up a friendship with a woman expected to succeed the Mantle of Suriel.
She advised him not to ignore his talents. A true Phoenix would contribute to the greater cause of restoration however they could.
He kept that in mind when he and his fellow Spiders encountered a Vroshir trap.
It was an ambush intended to wipe them out. The enemy had taken over an entire Iteration, then cut it off from the Way when the Abidan arrived to investigate. Upon entry into the world, his entire team was eradicated.
Except him.
He escaped, but the disparity bothered him. With a weapon on the level of a Judge, he would have been able to defend his team, but such weapons were highly restricted and forbidden to create.