264 - Systems, Oaths, Alchemy, Souls

It all went back to what Naem had told Lexie earlier, looking at things from the top down. 

Starting from the fact that all forms of magic inherently originated from chaos. The Chaos Mother, to be exact. Different species accessed that chaos mother in different ways.

But the Fae did it in the more interesting way.

Although the Fae were not the only ones who had access to magic, they had a knack for creating systems out of that magic. Lexie wasn’t sure about this, but from what she'd heard and observed, every other race of native magic-using population, like the elves, attained magic from things like deep meditation or cultivation of certain skills through some kind of adversity, like with the Guardians. It required them to embed themselves in the magic forms themselves, so much so that it transformed their souls to control the chaos within them.

But the Fae specifically were creatures of order. Could creatures of order have chaos in their souls?

Lexie didn't think so, which meant that the Fae must have some level of magic resistance. Like humans, they couldn't use magic outright.

Therefore, the only way for them to use magic was to bind it to something, a system, created by the most powerful force the Fae owned. The Oath.

The Oath probably wasn't magic in its purest sense. It was like Aiden described it, a binding force of the universe, altering reality to fit its own boundaries.  

The Oath was what the Fae used to bind chaos to order, which allowed them to use powerful magic despite their natural resistance to the source.

Lexie didn't know much about the particulars of how Fae utilized and monopolized oaths differently from every other species. How they managed to draw power from it.

It probably had to do with why they couldn't lie and why their speech was so verbose, because they had to completely communicate intent so as not to be perceived as deceptive. It was probably also why they were forced to offer 'fair' deals to whichever species they encountered, at least initially.

Then they waited for the species to need them, or in some cases, urged things to happen to make the species more desperate so the 'deal' could be skewed in the Fae's favor.

Honesty and fairness were likely rules the Fae needed to abide by to maintain their oath powers, as a way to balance out the inequity triggered by their having such powers in the first place.

Oh, and also, the oath must be agreed to by both parties, so that was another limiting factor.

So, the Fae got around this by maintaining their squeaky reputation as harbingers of justice and balance, visiting populations that had some kind of trouble, offering them deals for their help, and eventually enslaving them with such deals. They propagated their system far and wide, probably not out of charity but because it made the system stronger in some ways and suppressed other ways of magic.

Yet, their system was not perfect.

Chaos and order were natural enemies, and so they would be consistently at war, constantly splitting at the seams, held together only by a reality-altering oath.

Alchemy took advantage of this split and existed as a way to tap into that gap between the system and magic, between chaos and order.

By doing so, it accessed powerful magic that it should otherwise not be able to access.

That was the bug. 

Every alchemist accessed this gap differently, and that method was likely not replicable by anyone who wasn't them. Alchemy wasn't a system per se–it was born out of a rejection of a system, and so it was disordered by its very nature, but also very personal. Lexie would also guess that entering the gap was easier when the system was already weakened in some way, because that increased the dominance of chaos, thereby widening the gap and making it more accessible.

That was the common thread in how her father, Duru's gang, and possibly even Cecilia gained Alchemic control.

Duru and company stayed in an area with a weakened system, The Shatters. Aiden had somewhat weakened his access to the system through his Tilling bands. The fact that it didn't just make him lose all his powers, but it also made system healing harder for him, meant that it wasn't just suppressing his magical powers, but it was also disrupting his access to the magical realm through the system.  

And that forest Cecilia went to for meditation probably had a weakened system too, which would explain the emptying feeling she had while meditating.

So, existing in the system but weakening it somehow, made one more likely to learn Alchemy.

But that couldn’t be all there was to it, or there would be more Alchemists running around.

There was something else one had to do, but Lexie hadn't figured out what that was yet.

Perhaps it was thanks to magic resistance, the shared trait between humans and the Fae, that by nature, humans would still have a difficult time accessing the magic realm, no matter the method.  Lexie didn’t know why, and she didn't know what exactly about humans made them magic resistant, but maybe there was some variation in the human experience, which was why some people could learn Alchemy and others could not. Even if they tried to learn it their entire life, they simply could not access that space between chaos and order. Because they were not made for it in some way.

The Alchemist likely could not teach most people to use Alchemy, or he already would have. There were probably people more primed for it, or maybe certain situations primed people for Alchemy. Lexie didn’t know for sure, but that wasn't really important right now to her search. 

What she understood now was that the Fae system was inherently flawed for human use and was likely more fragile than she initially thought. Even without her input, it would probably fail at some point, and it would fail faster if the Alchemist plugged enough holes in it, both with mana bombs and with rampant use of Alchemy, constantly accessing that space and exacerbating the chaos.  

However, Alchemy wasn't the answer to humans getting power.

Her new system would be.  

The Eldritch were the closest beings to chaos. They were closest to the Chaos mother, and they understood magic at its purest form. The only problem with the Eldritch was their natural malevolence, which Lexie could temper with her soul card.

Now, onto creating the actual card.

It came back to the notion of intent. 

Fae magic was derived from intent through tales, the thing that existed somewhere between reality and not reality.

Just like Alchemy existed in the gap formed between chaos and order. 

Hmmm.

So maybe that was what decided the mode of access for Alchemy. Intent, but not in the way Lexie understood it.

For Fae, who were naturally order-based, intent came from stories that carried meanings, and this allowed them access an in-between space, where the magic existed. Alchemy also accessed an in-between space, but perhaps the intent was more internal, more of a desire or a want, and it was very individual to the person and their hack of the system. Human intent.

So maybe the magical realm just existed in in-between spaces, and access depended on intent?

That changed a few things for her.

The important thing to note was that Alchemy could not exist without the Fae system, which was likely why the Alchemist was searching for something that could.

Something humans could use after he completely collapsed it.

How far-reaching would that collapse be? Could it extend to the Fae system on the Fae planet? Would it render the Fae powerless? It would probably knock them down a few pegs.

If so, she wondered why the Fae hadn't prioritized eliminating the Alchemist earlier. Had they underestimated him? His plan had been terrifyingly simple but brutally effective. He'd already achieved it in the Shatters. He could have done much worse if Lexie and Aiden hadn't caught him.

No wonder Neqal and even Naem had helped the Alchemist. Despite what Naem said about not seeing the Fae as enemies, there was probably nothing they wanted more than the Fae's collapse.

Back to intent...

Lexie already knew she would use Eldritch intent to create the cards, and that intent would be tied to the character of the Eldritch, rather than the user themselves.

But now she knew the intent would play a much larger role than she'd initially planned. Everything hinged on it.

Rather than creating chimeras like Duru had been doing, the card would be a living embodiment of the intent of the Eldritch and the human, and it would let humans express a magical desire, without touching magic directly. 

The control point would be the deck itself. 

The Deck would be a set of cards attached to a particular dungeon, and it would tie into all the dungeon's powers, feeding off of one another and interacting with each other to create interesting combinations.  

At least one card in the deck would act as a stabilizing force, but instead of an oath, it would use the soul card that Lexie had created.

The deck would also need a card, or a couple of cards, that handled activation. It would translate that human intent into something the Eldritch deck could recognize, and then the deck would adjust the intent of the chosen card to fit closest to what the human desired.

Each card skill would then be pretty flexible depending on what the human actually wants and needs.

For example, one card could activate in several limited ways depending onwhat the intent was.

Then the rest of the deck would be split between the abilities and effects associated with the dungeon.

It would be perfect.

The Living Cards wouldn't just be stiff and inanimate. They would interface with both chaos and humans to translate human needs. Hell, the deck could even help choose the card for the human.

And the dungeon would benefit too.

When a dungeon was denatured, it no longer had goals, identity, or fear. It was like a brain stem without a personality, a computer with no user account, a factory with no manager.

However, it still craved activity. It still fed off of creating chaos, and the excitement, fear, and general emotion of those within it.

From what Lexie had observed from within Pvilycht and Yasycht's dungeon, Eldritch, even without the inherent malevolent tendencies, still liked to be useful.

The card might not be able to exist for itself, but it would certainly love to think and act.

Also, with enough time, the card could act unanimously to protect its user, just like the dungeon had acted to protect Lexie by bringing Xena around.

But baby steps.

She was already thinking far ahead.

Now that she’d figured out the particulars, it was time to move on to the bigger picture. 

While she was relatively certain that the cards would be safe, given how she planned on crafting them, she knew that the general population wouldn't just take her word for it.

This was literally asking humans to entrust their souls to a dungeon. The cards still had to be bound to a human through the soul card and might transform their soul in an unknowable way.

It could be potentially dangerous.

Yet, Lexie was still excited.

It was crazy, a huge breakthrough if it worked.

And somehow, she had a feeling it would work.

***

When Lexie appeared in the dungeon, Pvilycht was already ready for her.

He sensed her excitement and said, "We will be doing something big today, yes?"

"Huge Pvilycht. Huge!" She paused. "Can I access the dungeon core from here? Or do I need to go out of the heart to do it? Oh wait, don't answer that..." She closed her eyes, reached out to the dungeon, and felt its pulsing veins leading to the core of it.

"Okay, I think I can do it from here."

"Do what?"

Lexie proceeded to tell Pvilycht what she was planning to do. He remained still throughout her explanation, showing no emotion.

That was until she told him she'd had to undo and tweak some of their former designs. That he didn't seem too happy about.

"You did not tell me about these changes," he said.

"I know, it's just that I had a brand new idea," she said. "It literally just came to me."

"So you did it on your own." His frown deepened.

"Yes," Lexie said. "But I need your help for this next part. I need to craft another soul card, and I need you to help me."

There was a pregnant pause.

"I don't think I can help you with your soul card," he responded. "I tried to copy the powers in the card before, but I was unsuccessful."

"I know, but that's because–and this is just a theory–I don't think you can just copy it on your own. The card uses special, never-before-seen human magic, and there's probably no Eldritch equivalent, so even if you can understand, you can't replicate it."

He nodded.

"But I can," Lexie continued. "I just need you to read the schematics of my soul card and help direct my human and Eldritch magic where it needs to go. I'll do the pushing, you just make sure that it lands in the right pattern."

He paused and raised an eyebrow. "You would trust me with this knowledge?"

Lexie shrugged. "You are my disciple, aren't you?"

"Yes, but you understand what I can do with the knowledge you're giving me."

"I know." Lexie knew that he could very well learn how her soul card worked and somehow use it against her.

But Pvilycht had already stuck with her through some pretty gnarly situations. He was more than just her assistant at this point. He was her friend.

She told him as much, and his expression looked conflicted. He didn't look happy as she thought he would be, but he nodded.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded again.

"Okay." Lexie took a deep breath. This would likely be the most taxing thing she'd done in a while.

But also the most rewarding.

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. She materialized the blank cards, three of them just in case, and then activated her soul card connecting to the dungeon.

She felt it wake up and reach for her.

She also connected to Pvilycht at the same time, allowing him to reach into her for the card.

As he analyzed the pathways, Lexie focused on the two jobs she had here. To push her human magic out to create a second soul card and then bind the core of the dungeon to it.

She did the first part by entering the mindscape she was in when she'd created the first soul card. She remembered being torn about by grief and a need for vengeance. She'd also been on the verge of death and had reached for something internally, something she didn't know she had, as she combined three different intents that she'd pushed outward.  

Seize the End.

Lessen All Burdens.

Kill the Light.

The final step was soul scooping, shoving her Eldritch particles back, and letting only her human shine, pushing it out onto the card.

She felt Pvilycht working quickly, refusing to get distracted even by the light. She felt the cards break and come back together with a piece of her soul. She held it for as long as she could, and then she tapped into the dungeon's psyche, asking permission for what she wanted to do.

I want a piece of you, she told it, showing the dungeon what she wanted.

The dungeon allowed her to link a piece of it to the new soul card.

It split off, mixing with her human magic in the card, clinging to the serenity it brought and revelling in its new life.

“Can you feel it?” she asked Pvilycht.

“I think so."

"Good. Now make sure you pull it out of me."

Lexie felt the second that the soul card was ripped away. It didn't hurt, and she didn't feel empty per se.

But it was tough regardless.

Lexie finally let out a breath and stared down at the card, black with silver and purple streaks, running through it.

"The first Eldrich soul card," Lexie said, smiling.

Pvilycht stared at it too, with hunger, and Lexe shook her head. 

"It’s not for you.”

"Of course."

Lexie held it, noting that it was weaker than her soul card, but that was probably because it wasn’t constantly being sustained by her soul magic. She would need to recharge it at points, most likely, or amplify it somehow, but for now, it would do the job.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Phase one done. High 5.” She automatically held up her free hand, but Pvilycht didn’t know what to do with it.

“It’s a high five, Pvilycht,” she said. “You’re supposed to slap it.”

He hesitantly lifted a hand too, but Lexie had to grab his wrist and make him smack his palm against hers.

"High five," she said.

He pressed his lips together.  

Now it was time for the fun part. Crafting the other cards, she would link to the dungeon.

Lexie crafted twenty blank cards. She didn’t actually know how many cards were going to be in the deck. She figured that it would depend on the strength of the dungeon and might as well have more cards and not need them than to have fewer cards and need them. 

She attached the cards to the soul card she'd created for the dungeon, sorting its characteristics into the distinct forms.

The dungeon, before Lexie had stolen it, was a knowledge-type dungeon, from Neqal's branch of dark learning.

It dealt with forbidden knowledge, accessed lost arts, deadly puzzles, and wicked crafts.

Therefore, Lexie thought it would be an excellent tool to use as a study aid.

She could craft a card that would help identify gaps in knowledge.

And another card that recovered hidden information on a given topic.

And a card a detective could use to solve crime by replaying past activities in a space.

Or even one that could create a huge test room, like a simulation, which they could use to test out theories.

There was such an endless array of options here. Twenty cards didn't seem enough, but she couldn't create too many for the deck, or she would overwork her soul card.

She had to choose carefully which cards to prioritize.

As Lexie worked, she eventually noticed that Pvilycht wasn't paying attention. His energy had been kind of weird the entire day, but she'd ignored it.

Now, she decided not to.

“Are you upset with me?” she asked.

"Yes." He said plainly. "I have been upset at you for some time, and you haven't noticed."

"I'm sorry," Lexie said, looking up. "I kinda didn't know you could get upset."

He sniffed and said nothing.

"Why are you upset?"

"Because I am tired of this."

"Of what?"

"Of my own existence. I have been reinvented so many times. I am tired of never having a true identity. Of constantly being in flux, I merely taken on the personality traits of my master. When that creature made me forget what I was, and the other human creature made me remember, I didn't even know which part to remember. Didn't know which part of me was real. I still don't know. All I know is that I exist and I'm constantly in danger as well."

"I'm sorry about that. The danger is my fault because I can't take the test yet. You can still leave me if you want and join another master."

He glared at her so fiercely that Lexie knew that was the wrong suggestion to make.

"Or not," she said, trying not to smile.

He sniffed again, seemingly still offended.

She thought she could sympathize or relate a little to what he was going through. Basically, he was having a speedrun through the human experience. He was going through like five identity crises in one, but feeling it in a human and Eldritch way.

Not to mention that he was struggling with the concept of finding meaning in life. That wasn't unusual. Most people had their entire lives to find meaning, but Pvilycht had lived with inherent meaning and was just reborn as a human-Elditch, having to pick his own path, going through adolescence and adulthood all at once, and it was likely overwhelming for him.

"I am sorry, Pvilycht," she told him. "I did not know you felt that way."

"I do," he said sulkily. "It is very..." He couldn't find the emotion.

"Annoying?" Lexie suggested. "Saddening?"

"Yes," he said. "I thought you did not care about me and did not value my work after you made the change without me. But now you have shared valuable information with me, and I don't know what about the way it makes me feel."

"You don't have to do anything with it. Just bask in it for a little bit and move on. For what it's worth, you don't figure it all out right now. Life is kind of an experience that you learn as you go. With time, you'll learn more about who you are by fitting yourself in as many boxes as you can comfortably be in."

Pvilycht looked unimpressed. "So I have to suffer this for even longer."

“Yup. That’s what it means to be human.”

“I do not wish to be human. It’s so…unsure.”

"Yes, yes, it is. But that's kind of the beauty of it also."

He grunted, and she laughed.

Lexie wasn't done with the cards when she left the dungeon, but she'd already been gone for a while, and she knew her Uncle Max would be worried if she wasn't back soon.

Except Uncle Max wasn't at home.

Tate was in the kitchen warming up leftover pizza.

"Hey," Lexie said. "How's your arm?"

He wound it around his shoulder. "Good as new."

She hoisted herself onto the counter. "I made my first set of living cards by the way. My first living deck also."

"For real?"

She nodded excitedly and explained to him how she created them in full detail.

When she was done, he looked bemused. "Well, I got about half of that, but I'm happy for you." He allowed a beat of silence, drumming on the counter. "You want me to try them out for you?"

She blinked. "You would?"

He shrugged. "Not like I have much to lose. Besides, I thought about what you said. The question you asked." Tate didn't wait for her to remember before he clarified. "What happened today kind of opened my eyes to the difference between who I am and who I used to be. I was naive before, but the truth is, the answer is yes."

Lexie was surprised. "You mean..."

"Yeah. With the Alchemist...despite knowing what I know now, if I could do it all over again and that was my only chance at gaining strength, I would still make the same choice."

AN: Very info-dumpy chapter. Please let me know if anything needs clarification.