Azimuth: The Elden Throne (New Version)

Chapter 338 Marble of Creation and Destruction

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"... ?!"

/Step back!/

Suddenly, Dale stepped back, grasping for his head as an intense headache split his mind in half.

Intense pain traveled from his eyes to his mind, burning at the edges of his consciousness with equal pain as if he were staring directly at a sun.

At the same time, he felt an indescribable pressure, together with ragged breathing coming from right behind him, giving him an even higher sense of dread and fear...

But as he calmed down, he realized the breathing came from himself as he didn't even realize he had held his breath throughout the entirety of the 'show'...

Then again... That could be a lie he told himself to escape the fear he felt before...

"Huff..."

'What… What did I just see?' Dale thought as the pain began to settle

'This story… These words… Was that Caladbolg's creation?'

For a moment, everything he saw repeated as he remembered what just transpired.

'A fragment of a destroyed star shaped into a weapon…'

'But why? That aside... Of everything I wanted to know, Caladbolg's origin was at the far end of my list of priorities.'

/Pulsate.../

'Urg… This pain…' Dale thought as he held his head once more, it was as if his brain was pulsating with his heart...

'Huff… Still, this is quite interesting.'

'If everything is to be taken literally… This would be quite the tale. But of course, it cannot be true... Right?'

'An archer destroyed a Star and threatened the others? Causing them to hide in fear?'

'It has to be a figure of speech, even the closest Star to Azimuth would likely be tens of light years away and others would be even further away…'

'Besides, Caladbolg may be heavy, but it doesn't feel as dense as something like a Star's Core.'

'The smith in question... I wonder who he is... If he's here then there must be a reason.'

'Though at the same time, maybe not, his role ended with his departure, leaving behind the sword so it could find its own path, one he could not make.'

'Caladbolg... Should I be seeking that out?'

'It feels stupid... To help a sword find its meaning... But at the same time, this could be a matter of perspective.'

'The sword may not really be alive, or maybe it is alive... In the same way a Star is.'

'To help the sword find its path would be to complete the smithing process its creator was unable to fulfill, and this is likely what this story was meant to show me... Amidst some other things of course...'

'That Caladbolg is incomplete.'

With a strong breath, Dale recovered his composure completely, smiling awry as he thought about what had just happened.

'In any case, I think I understand what Roger told me before. If everyone else is feeling the same way I am, I can understand how someone might go crazy over this.'

'Not to say what the Tablet might wish to show… If it foretold your own death, how would someone react?...'

'It is easy to misinterpret its words, and across time, just how many stories out there tell the tales of kings and rulers that fell to the very prophecies of their deaths, carving away towards their doom as they tried to flee from them?'

'This tale didn't seem like a Prophecy, but there's no guarantee the next one won't be one...'

Dale looked at the Tablet, the carvings on its surface were still twirling, and the world around him was slowly going dark…

'From the looks of it, there is still more for me to learn... It fills me with both excitement and dread, more so than before.'

Dale closed his eyes as he focused as if that would change what the tablet was going to share...

But he wanted to believe, because he, right now, was lost...

And he wished to find his own path also.

'Please… I need to know more about the future…'

'Resko's path… The fate of the Southern Corps and its descendants…'

'I need to know what I have to do to defeat the creatures sealed away under the Church… And what do I have to do to reach the truth about it all.'

'What is all of this? An experiment? Who set all of this in motion and for what purpose?...'

'Even if only a glimpse, I want to see it… The outlines of this game board and its players!'

'Be them people, Gods, or some otherwordly entity…'

'Even if I'm not qualified, tell me, what must I achieve to seek it!'

'Is it Transcendence?! If so… What must I do next?'

Dale was usually a person of great conviction, but like all Humans, sometimes, even he wished for a path to tread.

For a long time, he had been walking in darkness, and the faint lights that ignited down this path did little to illuminate what stood ahead.

Testros' training, Tina's support, David's words, the descendants of the Southern Corps…

They all helped him walk amidst this darkness but alas, they could not guide him towards the end as this was a path he walked alone in.

And neither could he resolve himself to walk in their roads as he knew very well his truth would not be at their ends.

No matter how stubborn he was, knowing full well he could not walk alone down the road, Dale still insisted on pursuing a light, as he was far too afraid the darkness would not only consume him, but fetch his friends and family also.

He wished for help as it was hard being alone, even if little, he wanted to see a light and reach toward it…

Being in the dark was far too oppressive…

/Light…/

Then… Like before, without warning, maybe expecting Dale's plight and realization, from the dark surface of the tablet, golden words began to weave as they materialized from nothingness.

'What will it be this time?...' Dale thought deeply as his thoughts began to wander into the tale the artifact was about to tell

/BLINK!/

A thousand words suddenly came in and out of the tablet, flashing in his eyes like the colorful lights of a rave in the night, causing Dale to both go blind... And deaf, as the sounds of the words unfurling and condensing were louder than even the strongest of sirens.

/Darkness.../

But as quickly as it came, the words stopped, and darkness reigned.

/Shine.../

... Slowly, the faint outline of a circle formed, casting light onto the shadows.

It wasn't a star like before, it was a hollow, weak circle… Faintly shimmering with light.

It was unstable, somewhat feeble, but it was there... Existing.

The perspective began to change and the circle was laid flat to him, and more images began to form around it.

And then, he understood, it wasn't a circle, but a table.

With it, shadows materialized at its edges, taking the form of humanoid entities, giving Dale a somewhat strange and solemn feeling, like that of a funeral but one too big and too unfamiliar for him to cry at...

And even though he had never been to one, he knew it would feel exactly like this, the words just seemed to pop into his mind as he thought about it, as if even his thoughts had gone onto third person...

Or as if someone was writing and steering his own... Taking control of his mind.

/Manifest.../

... Surrounding this table were seventeen people adorned in strange clothes, if they could even be called that as their details were too vague for him to properly discern their characteristics and genders.

Some were so extreme it was hard to tell where the clothes began and the being ended.

However, none of that mattered, as at the center of the table, a shattered piece of marble stood, casting a shadow over the mood of this reunion...

And although the words were only images for him to process through his eyes and mind, Dale could feel a plethora of emotions coming from each member of the round table.

From anger, helplessness, fear… To irony, blame, and lack of care.

Each of these people took the broken appearance of the marble their own ways, some more caring than others.

Whatever had broken the marble, it was likely contained within the single instance of sensory overload he had felt just moments before, drowned within a million images that almost submerged him in an endless ocean of events.

How to explain creation with words? Was what Dale thought as he stared at the marble...

But at the same time, something felt wrong, that marble could not be what he thought, if he could even do so to begin with...

Were his thoughts even his own? Or were they implants from the Tablet's will? He could not tell anymore, maybe that was its desire.

Whatever he thought and understood was exactly what the Tablet wished for.

/Shuaa…/

The broken image of the marble slowly scattered into golden sand, gathering back again to show a new scene:

The people were now talking and discussing, throwing away their previous emotions to the wind as they tried to reach a decision.

/Whispers.../

The contents of their discussion echoed in Dale's ears like distant murmurs in a cavern, too far for him to properly understand and comprehend.

Sometimes, he felt as if he heard his own voice echo within, clearly a trick of his mind as it could not make sense of what was being conveyed at it.

Still, amidst his thinking, they all eventually stopped, and silence reigned the room was a center figure, the one opposite to him, came up with a set of words, causing all but silence.

Whatever it had said, it was clear not all seemed to agree, to the point some even straight-out left the table, either from how disgusted they were with the idea or merely how fearful of it they were.

From seventeen, they became eight… However, those eight were hellbent on accomplishing their task, one they carefully crafted over who knew how long…

They each took a small piece of the broken marble, large solid pieces, each considerably large, hemispheres of the sphere, doing their best to mend it and piece it together.

Alas, their hands were only so large and their strength so wide, since in the end, the broken marble was only partially restored before they ran out of energy.

Still, albeit incomplete, the marble had been restored, and from this impossible feat, opening new possibilities they had previously thought impossible, some they quickly began to explore as they continued to mend the broken marble, albeit now, one step at a time.

/Stare.../

But it was during such times, as the remaining eight chose to play with their newest toy, those that had previously left began to feel envy… And other feelings not quite in line with what the original eight intended.

Tired and unable to continue as much of their strength had yet to recover, the eight were completely helpless as their companions came back, stealing some of the shards of the marble, leaving behind only scattered pieces that could not be added back to the marble, not without its sister pieces.

/CLASH!/

Angered, they retaliate as their energy restored, and an intense war fell upon their world.

From Seventeen, they were reduced to Sixteen, and from that, to Fourteen…

The bodies of their compatriots were not spared the brutality, with their flesh, bones, and more being used to bathe their battlefield in all kinds of colors, sickening Dale down to his very core.

One by one, they killed each other off in a bloody melee of unknown proportions, and it was only when the Eighteenth member, the meekest and most shy of them all acted that it all ended.

The last member of their group, the one who always watched from the back with a pair of purplish eyes, stole the marble and forced all sides, be it the one defending the marble, those who stole its pieces, or those watching from the side come together under one direct idea:

They would not fight anymore, not directly, they could not sustain such senseless conflict.

They would create their own pieces and force them against each other in their stead.

It would be a fight of creativity, wits, and ability instead of a confrontation.

The one to possess said winning piece would be given control over the marble for a set amount of time, while those who lost would be forced to give away one of their stolen pieces, thus contributing to making the broken marble whole again.

Eventually, the winning piece would step down and their game would begin again… Even if they weren't there to continue partaking in it.

... As of the remaining twelve, none survived to see the game's end.

Like everything in creation, they faded away with time, naturally or not.

The shy one only prevented them from fighting each other, he could not prevent them from bringing forth their own demise… Or their successors from clashing.

However, their promise still held on.

As the marble became more complete, it drew the attention of many more beings, and from their sporadical meetings with those already parting in it, said shards traveled across countless hands, but in the end, under the law of the game, they eventually fell back into the marble, just as every cycle said it would.

Everything was as the shy one intended, to cause the marble to become whole again and to prevent its shattering once more.

/Vanish.../

With that, the golden words began to vanish, and Dale began to regain awareness, this time faster than before… And quicker than his incoming headache.

By now, Dale's mind was half drowned in the story, but he still had some lingering rationale to process this situation as it unfolded, and the only thing he managed to blurt out was a momentary passage:

'Is this a tale of how the world came to be?...'

'No... It can't be. But then again... What was the world those beings already existed on?...'

Dale remembered what David had told him about how the Gods had once walked on the earth, as such, this could not be about the creation of the world, unless the Gods weren't the ones who created said world, which would then contradict David's words once more.

Assuming the Marble in question was the world in question...

Whatever that marble was, it was definitely connected with everything he wished to know and the reason why he had been given such an opportunity.

This game was the reason behind everything, but could it really be taken as such?

From beginning to end, it didn't seem like the shy one treated it as a game, but its reasons were never clear, as it was too shy to say anything other than the necessary.

He felt as if the meanings conveyed to him by the tablet weren't entirely complete nor correct, it seemed there was much it was unable to fully share, either through its inability to interpret what it knew to him… Or his own inability to comprehend deeper meanings.

Either way, as Roger had said before, he was now left with even more questions than answers...

What was he supposed to make of this?

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Notes

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