Chapter 13: Back to Beginnings

The cathedral stood large before the two adventures, its four walls standing tall, untouched. The hole that Magus had blown into it was as though it had never existed, repaired to the exact state it was in before. The massive canyon Magus had carved upon his unsealing had long since been reclaimed by the forest, without a trace of it remaining. Could someone have been here in the week since Wyn? That was unlikely, considering Wyn had forgotten to report its existence. Nothing else seemed to have changed, though, so Wyn put the thought out of her mind.

“What do you think?” Wyn asked, turning to Magus with a smile. “The place of your birth.”

“I find it hard to believe that I’d be born in a place like this. Hardly an appropriate facility. And wouldn’t that be a coincidence, for me to be sealed at the place of my —”

“I was telling a joke, idiot.” Wyn interrupted, shaking her head.

There was a good reason that they were back at the cathedral. Over the past few days of adventuring with Magus, more and more questions began piling in Wyn’s head. Little innocuous questions that served as tinder for her curiosity. She glanced back at the man, who showed no emotion at what was basically his execution site. He stepped over the rubble, scanning his view as he took in his prison.

“A rather dreary place, isn’t it?”

“Is that so?” Wyn turned away. So the man could feel some emotions after all.

As before, the cathedral was boringly empty. Any carvings or marks that could’ve offered any hints of who built the place or for what reason had been worn away by wind and rain, and they hadn’t bothered to leave any artifacts around either. A stark white room, devoid of any hint of personality. Wyn wasn’t even sure if cathedral was the right word to use for something like this anymore. It shared a passing resemblance to the cathedrals found in Emijililan, but there were no objects of worship. No pews, no alters, no depictions of any stories, myths or legends. Wyn had never seen a more unstoried building, which only meant that the story that this thing was hiding would be more fascinating than anything else. She glanced up at a pillar, a weathered grey, a solid stone cylinder with no markings. She pressed a palm against the stone.

She wished she had paid more attention to her classes in history. There were stories in everything, they said. She couldn’t help but scoff. If they were to see this building, would they say the same? There were no markings, no distinguishable styles… no, perhaps there was some kind of style. She had thought that this was a cathedral for a reason.

She wanted to cry out in frustration. What was the point? What was running through the heads of the architects of this blasted place?

“Hey, any new memories in that empty head of yours after coming back here?”

Magus stood silently, gazing at the room. The room was layered in an uncountable number of spells, overlain into a complex lattice. A vast array of ancient mana coated every surface. He grabbed Wyn’s hand, and pouring a small amount of mana into his palm, blasted a small hole in the stone.

“What’re you doing!” Wyn panicked. It was a miracle that the place was restored once, they couldn’t count on—!

Her protests quieted as she stood next to Magus. Magus watched as even the dust from the hole began to hover, any proof of the hole slowly becoming undone as the wall repaired itself. Magus felt a shiver send down his spine. A new, wholly unsettling sensation. He glanced down at his arms, at the black cloth that wrapped around his skin.

“What was that?” Wyn cried out. She turned to Magus, hoping for any answer, but Magus merely shook his head.

Their investigation in the ruins lasted for quite a long time. Though, it was hard to call what they were doing investigation. Wyn spent the entire time walking around in circles, upturning loose stones and polishing rocks to no avail. Magus spent the time in the center of the room, circling, trying to make anything of the indecipherable invisible scripts on the wall.

Wyn couldn’t come to any conclusion other than the builders wanted to leave no trace of an identity, no hint to a function for this building.

He pressed a hand against the wall, and reeled back in pain. He watched as the mana from the cloth, and therefore his body, was siphoned into the stone. He felt as it dispersed, through the stone, then the ground, then the entire forest, before it grew so thin it could no longer be felt. Only one thought ran through his mind. This place really was a prison.

He glanced backwards. Wyn had flown up to the ceiling, slowly circling around as though something of interest would happen up there. She paid no heed to the array that was inlaid on every inch.

He watched as the lattice connected from the wall to the cloth. It made sense, he supposed. This cloth that was ripping the mana from his body, where did it put it? The answer, apparently, was meant to be the entire forest. His breath hitched as more and more mana was pulled, until finally, the pain subsided. Magus could only assume that all of the excess stored mana had been pulled out. Taking a deep breath, he watched as waves of mana emanated across the walls, the glyphs radiating a cold, silvery glow.

The glyphs faintly pulsated, slowly dimming over time back to their usual radiance. Before that could happen, Magus wanted to see if he could read them, understand the purpose of the spell. Unfortunately, it was as if he were reading underwater. The symbols present were familiar, yet their meanings were just on the tip of his tongue.

He glanced back at Wyn, who was now lying down on a beam on the roof, her arms swaying underneath her boredom. While she had paid no mind to the invisible glyphs, they seemed to undulate around her. That was when he had an idea.

“Wyn, come here please!” Magus called. In an instant, Wyn appeared before him, sending up a cloud of dust as she landed.

“What’s up, you found something?”

Wordlessly, he grabbed Wyn’s hand.

“Are you going to blow another hole in the cathedral?”

“I’m trying to focus.”

“Right, sorry.”

Wyn watched as Magus stared at her hand. He was obviously trying to do something, but whatever it was, Wyn had no idea. But he was staring quite intently, and for quite a while too. Wyn couldn’t help but get a little restless.

“A-are you going to be done anytime soon?” Wyn let out an awkward cough, swinging on the balls of her feet. Magus didn’t respond.

Whatever the spell, its purpose was clear. The black cloth is a reservoir of Magus’ mana, ripping it from his body and storing it within itself. But every reservoir has a maximum capacity, it can only hold so much. Even if Magus wasn’t sure of how much it could hold, given enough time, it would eventually fill. So this cathedral, then, was like the outlets of a dam. It would drain the black cloth of everything it has stored, dispersing it into the world, flooding the surrounding area with his mana. Combined with a function of self repair in case of damage, it was clear that whoever wanted him here didn’t want him to leave.

But the cathedral could be damaged. That was where hope surely laid. The spells that were inlaid within the building were complicated, full of moving parts. Which meant it was delicate, fragile. If one part could be destroyed, would that render the whole system inoperable?

He had to try. Destroying the black cloth was out of question. Its durability was well established. But not the cathedral.

“Wyn!” He called out. “Come outside!”

Wyn gave him a curious look, but hopped down from the ceiling.

“You found something?”

As soon as they were outside, Magus grabbed her hand. A massive beam of purple blasted forward, enveloping the entire building.

“Hey— what are you—!”

Silver tendrils of light began to spread across the ground, wrapping around Magus’ body.

The silver lattice climbed up his body, snuffing the spell immediately. The cathedral was unharmed. Wyn tried to shake off Magus’ grip, shake off the silver tendrils that were slowly climbing up her arm, but to no avail. She let out a small shout of pain as the tendrils touched her skin, feeling as mana was ripped from her body. With great effort, she managed to pry her hand from Magus’. Slowly, the silver shimmer shifted to a more golden hue. The flow of the mana from the cathedral became visible, only inverted, as though the cathedral were a drain at the bottom of a tub of water, clearly coalescing at a spot inside the cathedral. Curious, the two made their way back inside.

The two made their way to the spot, watching for any changes. Something flickered there. Magus’ eyes narrowed. The waves continued to gather, more rapidly as time passed. Their vision went black as a pressure pushed out against them, blowing away dust and debris.

When they opened their eyes again, a strange figure stood before them. A woman clad in clothes that Wyn couldn’t even begin to describe. Both her hair and skin was an ethereal white, and though her dress was deep purple, like Magus’ eyes, Wyn couldn’t tell where skin ended and fabric began. Her dress covered her completely, from the neck down, but even still, Wyn could tell that she was inhumanly beautiful.

“Who is that?” Wyn turned to Magus, amazed. This must’ve been someone that Magus knew in the past, if she were to appear here.

Magus, though, was at a loss for words. There was a sense of familiarity between the two, that much he was certain.

“Oh dear,” The woman said, her voice quiet and ethereal. “I really hoped we wouldn’t have to meet like this.”

“Whoa…” Wyn elbowed Magus. “You didn’t tell me you knew someone this pretty.” She turned to the woman. “What’s your name?”

The woman glanced down at Wyn. “You’ve made friends?” She reached a hand out, a faint golden string materializing between her fingers, connecting the two adventurers together. “No… not necessarily. So that’s how you’ve woken. You’ve met someone special.”

Magus frowned. The feeling of familiarity grew with each word she spoke. He knew this person, this being, more than any other. And she knew him, too. He had so many questions, but they all tangled themselves on his tongue. Yet he was content to just hear her voice.

Every word she spoke elicited sensations. Sensations that he couldn’t describe. If he had to say, they were vaguely positive, but it didn’t make him happy in the slightest. If Magus had the words that Wyn had, he would’ve described it as seeing a long dead loved one come back to life. But Magus, without his memories, had never experienced such a thing, and so, as his heart panged, he was left without words.

“Still so silent, even after all this time.” The woman floated over to Magus, cupping cheek in her hand. Yes, floated. Wyn glanced down, but it wasn't clear if she had feet. While they could’ve been hidden under her dress, Wyn was sure that wasn’t the case. For what reason, though, Wyn couldn’t say.

“Who are you?”

The woman’s hand lowered a bit, before dropping back to her sides.

“So, you don’t remember anything. That’s to be expected. They thought it’d be for the better.” The woman let out a small sigh.

“I would suggest leaving, now.” The woman said, her voice suddenly harsh. “It makes me undeniably happy, seeing you again. You’ve even made a friend. But you’ve woken up.”

The intricate, endless woven spells began disappearing from the walls, one after another. Magus’ eyes widened, as the mana flowed into the woman. Her image began to waver and flicker.

“I’ve dawdled too long. I’m not allowed to say anything that might cause you to remember. At the very least, in that matter, I agree with them.” The woman turned around, returning to the spot that she appeared. “Farewell, my beloved creation. Run. Far, far away.”