Chapter 26: I am what I am

Chapter 26: I am what I am

He

Who was he?

The young man cast the thin blanket covering him, getting back onto his feet. His expression was that of an unsettled man, but he couldnt quite point out the reason why.

A mirror. He needed a mirror.

His instinct guided him, and he found no reason to refuse. The room wasnt particularly large, but the owner had managed to cram in a significant amount of luxury goods in the space, including an ornate wall mirror. Walking over to it, he found a pale-skinned man staring back at him, his high cheekbones, dark emerald eyes and well-built physique giving the impression of an athlete.

Was thathim?

Who was he again?

Statistics, he muttered aloud. For some reason, it just felt like the right thing to do.

[Name: Zenakris Renain

Age: 22

Affiliation: Syrelore Kingdom Nobility

Soul Card: The Umbra, Uncommon [Level 9]

Statistics:

Physical: 17

Mental: 14

Proprioception: 11

Soul Power: 16 [21] ]

Zenakris Renain? he muttered out aloud, the words unfamiliar to his lips. He supposed that was his name. Surveying the room, another question popped into his mind.

Where was he?

Syrelore Academy. Yes, it was slowly coming back to him. He was the son of Arrenis Renain, a decorated noble in the cabinet of the king and a formidable combatant, having reached level twenty with an [Uncommon] ranked [Soul Card] at the age of thirty-five.

King, ha. What a farce. Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

The thought was full of disdain, as a fresh burst of memories forced their way into his mind. The [Realm Seal] was the first an unimaginably vast net that shielded Artezia from the [Phantasmal Beings] that had been trying to invade for eons. The exact specifics of it he couldnt recall immediately, but it gut told him there was nothing more there that was relevant to what he wanted to know. Then came the existence of [Dungeons], [Rifts] and most importantly [Towers].

The [Realm Seal] wasnt powerful enough to hold back the [Phantasmal Beings] in perpetuity, so it allowed some to funnel through openings that it intentionally created. [Dungeons] and [Towers] dotted the landscape of Artezia, while [Rifts] tended to be accidental lapses in the Systems judgement, though he felt pretty dismissive about those.

Apparently, the concentration of energy upon the Surface World was too shallow for there to be any meaningful rifts here.

Clearing these [Towers] and [Dungeons] gave valuable cards, levels, gear and many other valuable loot in return, but ultimately they were inconsequential in the larger picture.

The status of ones Nobility, rather ironically, was not decided by ones strength or even accomplishments, no. Instead, it was judged by what [Floor] your [Ancestor] had climbed till and how greatly he valued you. For there was one tower above all, TheAerianiculumn, which he somehow knew translated to the Tower of Endless Horizon- where the true paragons of humanity resided, where the rank of cards you could obtain was as limitless as your imagination and finally where you could fight on the true frontlines in the war between the residents of Artezia and the Phantasmal.

It was said that the remains of twelve worlds that had shattered in the wake of the [Phantasmal Incursion] had been reforged into this one tower, spatial distortion and folding making the tower seem so puny from the outside when in reality it contained a land far wider than Artezia, except it was spread across floors.

For example, his revered Ancestor Varikas Renain had successfully climbed to the ninth floor, while the kings descendant on the other hand had reached the fifteenth floor. Though he doubted the ancestors viewed the surface world as anything but a game to be played in their free time, a creche from which they hoped to sire one or two worthy descendants at most though the exact population of the Aerianiculumn Tower could not be estimated, his father had once said that it was likely close to reaching parity.

There was only one reason his father himself had refused to ascend for those who entered the Tower could never return to the surface world, barring a few exceptions that were out of reach for most even inside the tower.

He was not his father though, long having sworn to make the journey to delve towers and dungeons, to roam the land in search of rifts, to continually strengthen himself until he was worthy enough, or atleast considered himself worthy enough to survive the Aerianiculumn Tower. His father believed that an [Uncommon] card had sealed his destiny, that only [Rares] and higher could survive in that meat grinder, but he was determined to prove him wrong.

A knock rapped against his wooden doors body, rousing him from his reverie.

He gingerly walked up to the door, twisting the knob and cautiously opening the door.

Why was he so cautious? Wasnt this his room?

A beautiful young girl made her presence known in the center of his vision, her short, fiery red hair matching the intensity of her burnished orange eyes that bore down upon him, an intensity that Valerie Nezeria exuded rather effortlessly. She was short, her cheeks full despite her otherwise lean and tone body, her expression slightly miffed even as her body was relaxed, yet ready to react at a moments notice the hallmark of special forces back on Earth.

Earth? What was Earth?

What an odd thought. Disregarding it, a light blush made its way onto his face as he made eye contact with the girl. Despite the facade of sterness and stoicism she maintained, or rather, had to maintain as the daughter of the Kings right hand man, the Noble that was responsible for trade and finances Lord Ramav Nezeria, he found her incredibly cute.

The feelings that welled up in his heard were both familiar and unfamiliar, as if he hadnt felt them in a long time.

So he slowly swiveled his head. Slowly, as if he dreaded what he found. First his gaze went to the Shallen-Dar Trees that populated this forest, and then to the patch of shrubbery adjacent it. A writhing mass of shadows, [The Shadow] card the most likely culprit behind it.

An assassin? Laughable.

Absorb, he commanded, and [The Umbra] card stripped the shadows off the would-be assassins visage, forming a perfect sphere in the palm of his hand. Revealing. a teenagerthe very same one from his visions

.

HIMSELF.

This isnt real, Tom/Zenakris muttered, stumbling back a few steps. The dissonance between memories, the vague murmurings in his mind about another world, the gaps in information, things hed never seen before, things that no hallucination could reproduce.

THIS ISNT REAL! Tom roared, his eyes flashing like the pupils of a rabid wolf.

A crack appeared in reality itself, stretching across from one corner of his vision to the other.

That confirmed it.

Zenakris, are you alright? Valerie asked him, her eyes shimmering like setting sun, the concern within them almost palpable.

I dont know you. This isnt my life. YOU. WILL. NOT. TAKE MY MEMORIES! Tom again, feeling himself pushed to the limits of his sanity. It was the one thing he had. The one thing that defined him. This struggle. This achievement. The feeling of conquering. The sensation of winning. He might not share Zenakris grand desire to reach the top of the Aerianiculumn Tower but that didnt mean that he would just yield to some pompous, privileged noble prick.

I will not yield, Tom muttered as he felt the grip of insanity approach, Zenakris memories, his being, his existence, trying to overwrite his own.

The sphere of shadows in his hands split into three spikes that headed for his crush, his purported best friend and his brotherall of whom he hadnt seen before this day. It was a distraction, he knew that they would counter it.

But it didnt matter.

Time was running out.

Tom withdrew Zenkaris prided sword, and began to laugh as he stabbed himself in the chest, skewing his heart. A flower of blood blossomed across his chest, and the scene shattered.

If you asked Tom who he was in the old world, he wouldnt be able to give you a truthful answer. What was a man who stifled his yearnings, closed himself off from the world and simply went through the motions that was life. He was alive, he supposed. He was motivated enough to keep working. He liked hot coffee and donuts. One day, maybe hed ask someone out. He was just.. one among many, at the end of the day.

Now though, as Tom floated in an all-encompassing void, he knew the answer to that question. He was Thomas Lowe. He was [The Fool]. He was a man who had faced the most unfavorable of odds and had come out in one piece. He could be enterprising. He could be clever. He could also be quite foolish sometimes, but that was okay. He accepted him for himself.

A sea of stars twinkled all around him, a few at the furthest reaches of the void, shining a bright golden. There were a dozen or so silver stars, and hundreds of stars that glew with a bright bronze sheen. He somehow understood where he was. What he was going through.

It was a battle of consciousness and Tom had managed to survive the first onslaught. So he supposed that he was in Zenakris mind, and these were his memories?

Tom tried to move his hand, but immediately felt a force of rejection that began to crush down upon him from all directions. The world or rather his mind, was rejecting him.

In the real world, Zenakris, who had walked past Toms hiding spot unwarily, clenched his head as a sudden shooting pain struck him.

The Golden, Silver and the Bright Bronze stars were out of his reach. But there was something he could reach for.

His instinct, or rather, [The Fools] instinct, drove him to a card that was two arms lengths away. Normally, Tom would be horrified at the concept of shuffling around in someones mind, much less wanting to read their memories but. This .bastard had the audacity to try and overwrite his mind.

Tom was furious. Furious beyond belief.

It was a sensation that words alone could not begin to describe, the sensation of your being being stripped away from you as you watched, aware yet unaware.

Toms hand reached outwards.

Vengeance could be a powerful force. And Tom would harness it, because he needed it.

His hand reached outward and outward and the pressure crushed down upon him with a hatred that equalled his own. Toms eyes were bloodshot, and a few seconds in his capillaries started to burst one after the other.

This. Wasnt. Real.

So he kept going, letting out a bloody scream till his vocal cords left.

His eyes as wide as saucers, Tom let out a mad grin as he felt his hand wrap around the Dull Bronze star.

Vengeance was his.

Tom awoke with a startled gasp for air, heavily wheezing as he clenched his chest and struggled not to heave over his breakfast. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his eyes wide in disbelief as he just thought back on what hed experienced.

What the fuck kind of skill tried to wipe his memories!

was what Tom barely managed himself from screaming out. Motherfucker!

[You have experienced Maya, the infinite web of illusions. You have copied a complete memory of the Aldorian Language, and can now speak it fluently. A False Status depicting the Status of Zenakris Renain will be recreated from your experienced memories. Active Shroud has copied the appearance of Zenakris Renain. Both effects shall last for the next twenty four hours.]