As the Significance of the Oath filled the room, Kieran was mystified by its effects. He had never seen… or felt anything like it before.
It was eye-opening and taught Kieran just how clueless he was. Xenith's power scale and complexity range were much greater than he previously gave it credit for.
The more he experienced, the more he learned about esoteric concepts, ancient practices, and disparate truths that could be woven into fantastical tales.
In a daze, Kieran listened as his mind droned from the fabric of time, space, reality, and something he couldn't place, being bent by inexorable Significance.
What kind of immaterial and absolute concept was Significance if it held enough dominance over presence to push aside reality? Feverish thoughts about what this concept could accomplish spiraled inside Kieran's mind.
'What is it? Is it a weapon? No, but perhaps it could be. Too many unknown things make me unable to judge what's possible and impossible. Is it energy? Could be. It's definitely weirder than Mana could ever get. It can't be a being. I sense no life from it. It's just there… and heavy.'
The origin of this thing called Significance perplexed Kieran. Had it come from the Gods?
'There are Gods, correct? Do we treat the Endless as the Gods, then? It tracks, but… Gods should be omnipotent and unchallenged by anything in their domain, right?'
Kieran had never heard any prestigious names talk of beings such as Gods, so it was a roaming thought. In essence, Endless seemed absolute, but they weren't. The Hecate was a prime example of a being of unthinkable influence that had yet to reach the state of being absolute.
The Hecate still yielded to fate and its consequence. The Three As One could peer, read and speak of fate, but that was the furthest their dominion over fate extended. Otherwise, Hekaina would have been able to ask more questions, acquire more concrete answers and not pay such a heavy price.
'Ah, price. Pay a heavy price…'
Kieran's eyes lit up with theoretical and possibly sound insight.
'Did the Enchantress pay in Significance? And because I was completely normal at that time, I failed to grasp what had occurred?''
There was also the fact that Hekaina was several Tiers higher than him and could veil her body so that no one may pierce it. The Wykins were skilled in that way, and as the Enchantress, her skill was matchless.
Kieran was overcome with the sudden urge to find Hekaina, speak to her, and ask some genuinely pressing questions.
'Time and place. Time… and place.'
He had to convince himself not to focus on what couldn't be addressed currently and focus on what was happening now. Reality bent absurdly, creating a bizarre line in the center of the spellbinding throne… shrine, object.
The smoothness of the line made it appear like it was cut from the world's finest blade. Kieran found that believable. Perhaps Significance could become the world's most pristine blade ever created.
The echoing and overlapping Oath reverberated in Kieran's ears, and his blood began to vibrate and grow frenetic. The sensation was a step above what he could accomplish. Kieran thought his frenzied blood wanted to separate, returning to what was rightfully his and what he had bonded with.
Not the most fantastic feeling, he had to admit.
Then, following the utterance of a final uniform chant, the Oaths that each of the Myths uttered began to change. Their voices that had once held harmony grew discordant but remained invocatory and powerful as if an ancient, irrefutable spirit possessed all.
The first to speak was Gestalt, the Colossal Myth, and his stentorian voice provided something solid and unmovable. The line severing reality expanded by a thread's width with each word he spoke of his unique oath.
"…I am the great shield that guards the Realm, the wall that protects the world's memory. Acting in the faith of the Slumbering Colossus, I pull upon the Rooted Chains to pass down my honor. Let the chain extend beyond this humble Myth."
Next was Zephyr, the Tenebrous Myth, stepping forth with chilling indifference. Shadows and darkness spilled out from his body, surrounding him in a cocoon of blackness.
"…I am the hidden blade against the threat forged in the shadows during the blackest night. Lone Traveler of the Night, I reap lives and have no name. I bear no honor and accept no glory. My tale will be unsung like the Nameless Dark, I have assumed. I pull upon the Hidden Chain to pass down my burden."
Then came Astraea, the Natural Myth. Her eyes shimmered with the brilliance of a world illuminated by stars. A thin film rose around her as she lifted her arms, her theatrics a step above the rest.
"…I am the world's sanctuary, chosen to shelter its secrets, know its present, and protect its past. I am the World's Longevity, and I am its Willing Sight. Its teachings permeate my words, and I pull upon the Terrestrial Chain to share this blessing."
Kieran inspected Astraea from behind. He wondered what it was she meant by being the World's Longevity. The title seemed highly unusual and offered little insight into what kind of oracle she was outside of sight.
As he posed mental questions, noting the Myths' every Oath and what it spoke of, the others continued adding something to the germinating portal.
Judging by its shape, presence, and bizarre influence, it was the only sound choice. It was a portal that led… somewhere.
After Astraea, it was Ingvald's voice that powered above the rest. Like booming thunder following a flash of lightning in the darkened sky, the Roaring Myth could not be stopped.
"…I am the many fists that beat back encroachment. Blinding and thunderous, my strike is everlasting. It is a roar upon the battlefield, a cry of thunder within the sky. The energy rises and then releases—I am that release, the rumbling. In the name of the Roaring Thunder, I pull upon the Rumbling Chain to spread my light."
The next Myth Kieran had never heard of.
The man was of average height and wore black leather armor. His pale gold hair seemed like it was tied in a hurry, most in a ponytail, but some falling down the sides of his gaze.
ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm His gaze was focused and sharp, resembling the keen watch of a hawk. As Kieran caught a hint of his side profile, he noticed the man's eyes were strange, aligned to look like two green bullseyes with a smooth gradient.
'Whoa… pretty neat.'
His name was Alfeurza, and he was known as the Epoch Piercer and the Linked Myth.
Few people understood what he symbolized because those who experienced it never lived to tell the tale. Their lives ended abruptly with an arrow in their skull and a hole in their chest.
"…I am the arrow that was, is, and shall be. Destined to pierce, I carry the weight of a thousand across my journey. Their might, glory, honor, and name are not lost, for I become them. With my Oath as the drawstring, I pull upon the Unified Chain so my successors may pierce toward the future."
Of the two Myths that remained, Scar frowned and stared into the almost completed portal. The dreaded pull was coming, and he had to prepare himself to be shaken.
As the bearer of the heaviest burden, his voice was always last to be heard but first to be questioned.
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