Chapter 14: Nonary

The boy was met with darklit skies, not a single star in their expanse. An empty space, void of any light.

No sun nor moon greeted him, the latter he was thankful for as he still felt the need to tear the lunar sphere apart, his anger still credible to him.

Though it wasn’t his principal goal.

[This was not quite what I... expected.] Melancholy was the sole emotion he felt, neither joy nor anger present in his mind. A morose atmosphere, just like before. [Then again, I’m used to it.]

A road tiled with bricks and cobblestone, ashen in its appearance. Though painted once, the natural elements had eaten its colors, leaving a lifeless tint. That wasn’t what interested him, however.

The most curious detail were the angel statues that stood by its side, arranged in such a fashion that made them appear lifelike, waiting for their guest of honor.

Seated on their heads were black birds; ravens that eyed him with curiosity.

The automaton aside, they were the first signs of life that he met. His presence did not agitate them, as they merely stared with their solemn gazes, one that he welcomed.

[Alas, while weeping angels dance, and forlorn ravens sing...]

As he trotted down the dusky path, with words out of his mouth, the ravens cried. Though the statues did not rouse, in a perpetual dance were they frozen.

[Continuing this soulless prance, thus sleeps our fallen king...]

The ravens took for the skies, the tempest winds growing stronger with their flight. A flock of birds, airborne in their journey to the heavens, melding with the pitch-black skies.

Though they couldn’t be seen, their presence was made known through sable feathers that fell to the soil. Swept by the vagrant winds that hounded empty skies, they fluttered and fell without reprieve.

[I walk through abandoned stones, as feathers fall with grace.]

His amble remained uninterrupted, sauntering down the shunned stroll. The boots he wore came to blows with the brick-made road, and they produced a slighted sound. A dull pounding heard only by him.

[Whilst veiled in black, the fallen king resumes his idle pace.]

The sight of a dark figure walking down a brick road, gazing past the resplendence of his feathered friends. It is said that ravens were bringers of bad luck, but he begged to differ.

He only saw avian creatures, seeking protection from any ill-fortune that may befall them. He didn’t deem them cursed, not at all, no.

They were alive, just like him. The right to exist belonged to them, too.

[Beauty is in the eye of the beholder...]

The spectacle entertained him, as it may. While the scenery carried no beauty in its form, the dour space gave him a sense of nostalgia, a favorable sight in his eyes.

[Indeed, how poetic...]

The boy walked further down the path, the visibility still at an all-time low because of the dust storm.

It did not seem to stop soon, as he trudged through the granular wind, only to notice a strange silhouette that became conspicuous with his arrival.

[Hm?]

The odd structure’s identity was unearthed as he inspected it. Its local emplacement was quite weird, as he found.

[Why is there a fountain here, at the nexus of this localized dust storm?]

A gilded fountain, with silvered tinctures that decorated its majesty. Filigree ornaments hung from its edges, exuding an aura of nobility.

Sparkling water flowed from its spout, descending the arched tiers before it fell to its basin. The fountain kept its lustrous finish in such a damaging environment, its water without dirt and grime.

[And it’s unharmed, at that!] He exclaimed, noticing the dubiousness hidden in its grandeur. Whenever he encountered such phenomena, his suspicions arose. [How fishy...]

He approached the fountain, only to find out that within its vicinity, no wind could pass through. Maintaining peace and tranquility within its tiny domain, serving as a sanctuary of sorts for one such as him.

The chaos that came from outside the boundary never pierced his newfound abode, though he never had plans to permanently confine himself within the sanctuary it provided him.

[Should I take it apart?]

The boy’s greed showed. There was a mechanism responsible for the wonder, and he wanted to make it his. He had many plans for the mechanism, as he would be able to shield himself without taking much effort.

[It should be easy, especially with my knife.]

He knelt down by the basin, only to face his reflection. A black box; with green, vertical slits that stared back at him. After seeing his reflection, the boy lost his greed, instead replaced by scorn for itself.

[I look ugly...]

It wounded his pride, not knowing what it hid behind the mask. He yearned to see what he truly looked like, without any facades that his damned past may have hidden from him.

[I’ll destroy this thing as soon as I can.]

He stood up again as he pursued a single line of thought. How did such a structure work, and would he be able to gain it?

If he had the apparatus, exploring his surroundings would be an easy feat to accomplish, as he no longer had to deal with the elements.

Though as much as he tried to probe over the structure, it looked to be nothing more than an ordinary fountain, only made significant by its grandeur.

[If I cut through it, I might damage the mechanism]

He wanted it to be unharmed, if possible. Using his knife would be a last resort, as he had yet to try another approach.

[Sigh... I’m going for it]

If there was one method that succeeded frequently, it was via a tactile approach. He was going to touch it, as stupid as it may sound like.

If he ended up in another entrapment, he could just sever whatever limb stuck to it.

While such an idea bordered on the edges of rationality, it already seemed like a normal idea for him, as he had already experienced worse.

Let it be known that he still hated pain, only putting up with it because of what the situation demanded.

He just wanted to leave with haste, as he remained inside the dreaded architecture, even though the skies were visible.

[Welp.] The boy stretched his hand out [Here goes nothing.]

He touched it and... nothing.

He dragged his hand around the curvature, feeling the sculpture underneath his fingers. Still no reaction.

As nothing seemed to occur, he removed his hand from the fountain, only for him to kneel down in pain.

Something assailed his mind.

[what is it... with this world... and pain...]

The boy could only writhe in agony as his visor kept flashing between colors.

[I’m... no... fucking... masochist...]

A single word kept resounding in his thoughts. A word that he recently came across, from when he resolved the obstruction he saw as a barrier. Hidden by cryptic symbols though he understood them, strangely enough.

[N-Nonary?]

The boy went through whatever information he had to define the mysterious word, and he did so.

A string of knowledge exhumed from the within cavities of his strange mind, giving out a definition of what the word meant.

|||

Nonary [Concept]:

A numerical connotation denoting the 9th rank or order. In Arity, designation ‘Novenary’ represents it, with ‘Nonary’ being an alternative to its namesake.

___

Excerpt from: [Library of Ruin - Archived]

[Modifiers]
+ It is ruined knowledge.

|||

As the information came to light, the pain he felt slowly died down. It was no longer dulling his senses as he regained control of his body.

And soon enough, the pain disappeared, leaving no trace behind. His head felt clearer than before, as if the word possessed great significance that was related to him.

[Ack... That fricking hurt...]

He propped himself up on the fountain’s base, unconcerned on the rough surface that it now had.

As he was still affected by slight it caused his mind, he closed his ‘eyes’ for a few seconds, before opening them back up.

:::

+ Name: Nonary (Temporary)

:::

Reflected on the murky water were those words that lit up his visor. As the boy read them, he ceased his movements.

Two words were all it took for him to freeze up in shock, as it had recently revealed his name to him.

Though it was a temporary name, whatever that meant, he finally had an identity he could call his. This was a victorious response to his painful efforts.

[Hahaha...] The boy weakly cackled at the revelation, happy that his efforts weren’t in vain. He punched the air in victory, content with what he learned. [Worth it...]

He stayed on the ground for a few more minutes, waiting for his mind to recover from the mental stress. Withstanding a mental attack was one he couldn’t brush off easily, so he simply waited until he was in good shape.

And, after the allotted time had passed, he finally stood up from his supported position, looking at the fountain for one last time.

[Well, I’ll be darned. You look ugly now.] He mouthed out, staring at the mainspring. It no longer looked beautiful in his eyes.

The fountain had lost its former splendor, instead replaced by a broken structure of battered metal.

The spout from which water once gushed forth had degraded, now rusty in its appearance.

Its arched tiers did not fare well either, having the same fate as the spout.

And the basin, previously filled with clear water, was now murked in mud and sand.

It was a far cry from when he first saw it.

[And that’s not all, my feathered friends!]

He gestured towards the ravens that seemed to watch his every move as they hopped across the ground.

The dust storm that kept pestering him was now gone. He couldn’t point out when it had dispersed as he was writhing in pain back then.

But he didn’t really mind it vanishing, as it was another inconvenience gone.

[Wait, why are you looking at me like that?]

As he was explaining to the ravens how he felt, they looked at him with weary eyes; as if they were pitying him. Such an affront to his general childishness.

[I have the body of a 9-year-old so I might as well act like one, no?]

After he said those words, the birds moved away from him, seemingly out of fear. The boy only stared back at the happenstance before realizing what their actions represented.

They were mocking him.

[Bunch of pricks...]

At their response, he felt wronged. While it was indeed childish to blame an animal, his prior knowledge appropriated them to be quite intelligent.

And while it still felt weird to possess knowledge without knowing their origin, it was a fact that fueled his anger further, as he thought of their reaction as an insult.

[I ought to ruffle your feathers or something.]

With the dust storm gone, he finally had a clear view of his surroundings. He noticed one simple fact, that he was in a courtyard.

[Or, more exactly, an inner courtyard.]

A fortified structure, built with thick walls that enclosed him within the large space. It was much larger than he expected, seeing the walls tower above him with the same height as the automaton.

And he was within the inner courtyard, which meant that he was in proximity to the tower keep.

A place which he quickly searched for as it could provide him a vantage point from a higher place, allowing him to see the stronghold’s layout.

[Keep... Keep... Keep... Keep...] He scanned his surroundings, expecting to see the structure soon. [There!]

He found a circular tower standing on the far side of the inner courtyard. It was where the crows lied in wait, anticipating him. S

ince the fountain situated itself a few meters near the edge, he would need to walk a full minute towards the place. And his inherent laziness made him contemplate on whether he should go there.

His desire to proceed won.

[I’m lazy but...] He turned to the keep’s direction, as he finally made up his mind. [This place isn't much better either.]

The boy walked towards the tower, leaving the ashen brick road that he once tread on. The road only lead towards the fountain, strangely enough, and it had served its purpose. So there was no need for him to stay there.

Doing so would be a gigantic waste of time.

[Please stop staring at me with those big, beady eyes...]

As the boy walked, he expressed his discomfort towards the feathery beings, who only stared further in response.

[It’s creeping me out.]

Unfortunately, his demands became ignored. The ravens clustered around him as he neared the belfry; a bell hung by its top.

The boy thought it strange as a tower keep served as the main refuge; having a bell clashed with its purpose.

[Well then, you’re a pretty door.]

He arrived at his destination, the flock of birds now trailing him from behind. The brief memory of tearing down a certain door came to mind.

[Would be a shame if I were to rough you up...]

The boy stood in front of an arched door, medieval and wrought-iron cast. It was a double speakeasy entryway, meant to be opened from outside. Arranged in a rectangular style were rivets, overlaying the piece with metal points.

The door was as feudal as it could be, like something straight out of a fantasy book.

Then again, the unnatural occurrences already reinforced that idea in his head, so he expected little from his surroundings.

[It’s just a door, right?]

Stuck between the choice accessing the interior with his gloved, tiny hands or using his knife to tear it down, he felt conflicted over what decision he should make. This was no laughing matter, as it concerned his mental health.

[It's a very suspicious door that might end up eating me with those iron rivets, as they suddenly come to life and bite me.]

Especially after his previous interactions with a certain mahogany door caused him to flare up in anger, and who was to say that it would not happen again?

[Hey birds, what do you think?] The boy asked his feathery companions, glancing behind his back.

They leered back at him, giving out a single, coordinated crow. How they achieved such synchronicity for a simply reply was baffling on his own, but it satisfied him.

[Yeah, you’re right] He somehow took their feedback as a justifiable resolution. [If I keep bashing doors left and right, who knows if I’ll ever be able to enter an establishment.]

He swung the door open, both panels drawn-out to the side. The keep’s remoteness exposed to him as he entered the place. The ravens simply remained outside, not approaching within a single meter of the door.

They stared at the boy, who curiously looked around.

[It’s plain.] The boy remarked, criticizing its interior.

No furniture was present, the first floor barren of any furnishings. He didn’t arrive here to accommodate himself, though.

[Not like I’ll be staying here anyway.]

As the tower was circular in its formation, a spiral staircase became the only way to ascending the floors. The boy noticed this as he approached the flight of steps that spiraled upwards.

Since it was a coiled structure, he circled around it, only to come facing a strange creature.

‘That gaze... that awful gaze...’

The boy wanted to speak, his anger preventing him from uttering out a word. Instead, his thoughts remained trapped within his mind.

The creature’s presence derailed whatever rational logic he tried to form, as it drove him mad. He couldn't speak, not with its presence near him.

‘I found you.’

A flickering blue flame, only a lantern’s size, was the creature he sought to destroy. With two sphere-like orbs the size of a marble as the critter’s eyes, it looked upon the boy with a gaze of... worry?

It seemed to stare at him in wistful silence, concerned over his wellbeing.

Though he couldn’t understand how such a thing was possible, as what he saw was nothing more than a trick of the light, and associating emotions with such a being shouldn’t be possible.

An implausible premise, though it was hypocrisy for correlating the moon with evil.

[It... was... you...]

With considerable effort, he finally spoke towards the azure fire, blaming his sorrows on it. His efforts were nothing more than hapless talk, his words bringing out an empty response.

[I... finally... get... to...]

:::

[Passive Skill - Black Box]
+ [Active Skill - Scarlet Devil]

:::

[I-I...]

The boy became wreathed in crimson haze, his regal blade sheathed in the same colors. His visor, one that stood with him since his awakening, had a wide, painted grin shown.

This must have been the third, or the fourth, and his sanity broke. But he didn’t care. The presence in front of him, it was as familiar as it could get.

[I’LL KILL YOU!!!]

With a kick to the ground, he dashed towards the floating blaze, the blade en route to his target.

Yet it did not react, instead remaining still. The boy thought it likely to move aside or, at the very least, try to protect itself.

His attempt failed as a golden spear, comparable to a clock-hand, stopped his knife mere inches away from the flickering blue flame. Strung to the lance was a cerulean strand of light, leading towards his foe.

It stopped his attack effortlessly, one so close at that.

[Um...] A silvery, bell-like voice came from the azure fire. [Are you alright?]

The creature, who he assumed to be incapable of speech, spoke out in such coherent words. Words that seemed to calm him down.

In his surprise, the anger he felt suddenly diminished, giving him free thought. At the retrieval of his emotions, the boy could only say one word in response.

[Huh?]