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Blake Nightingale

 

My eyes furiously read over the incomprehensible text, overrun with wonder and amazement. I had my thoughts, but to think, it was true. I am in the original church built by Gluskab himself, The Guiding Hands' final gift before he was taken by the Mother Below.

 

The books say that he built a wonder for each race, one for each to grow. Most people believe it was just for humans, but that is false. Gluskabe cared for all. He watched for all. He guided all. All you had to do in those old days was ask and prostate yourself.

 

Sadly, that is no longer the case. Instead, as a final act as the Mother Below pressed upon him, he divided his power into different parts, separate areas for people to use as lighthouses of guidance.

 

We, humans, were meant to go here initially instead of The Cabin unless the texts I read were wrong. Just as demons go to the Fiery Pits, Nahullo the Roundtable, and Pygmies the Weavery. Even Bado has their own place, the Ruthless Nest. But something happened to the Cathedral Of Eyes. Something to make it so that only those the Mother Below wants to and those that take Sigils from hers come here, the former likely for blessing and the latter for death.

 

The Mother Below twisted it and forced Gluskab to alter and desecrate his places of worship. The Cathedral Of Eyes, the paramount place many years ago to gain wisdom, not just about your Sigil upon advancement, was taken from us. We were left with a dainty old cabin, one that was meant for the beasts.

 

And it is this place that Wyatt somehow joined me in. I can only assume this is his Insight at work, a metaphysical amalgamation of all his other Sigil skills. He… he is stupid for coming in to help me, but I relish it anyway. Loneliness is… it is hard. Even for short periods. Which is not what this has been. I'd been hiding for weeks inside this cathedral and its terrifying halls because I was unwilling to fight anything, unknowing how dangerous anything was and assuming the worst.

 

The words on the paper of this tome enrapture me, and it's not just the early advancement that is the reason. The fall through that abyss left me with no choice, I was out of Ether and could barely control my Bond to aid me, so I had to take the leap as I remember what Wyatt did when he got low on Ether. I went past the brink to keep me and Johnny alive, and I felt like my mind would explode as my body shut down.

 

I knew my advancement wouldn't help as much as his, but I had to try. Doesn't seem like it worked all that much, though. Though, maybe it did. Perhaps my Ether was increased just enough to survive, as I've been here long.

 

I am so thankful I used Devouring every chance I got as each increased my limit of Ether just a bit. Otherwise, I'd be long dead.

 

And my Metaphor. After going to the Underworld, it was easy. The time spent underneath the world with those long gone gave me wisdom.

 

What do the dead mean to the living?

 

The dead are monuments, pillars, and spires for us to grow from. Their wisdom, power, and struggles are guiding stones for us to follow. The gifts Isaac gave, and the Heights of Hope tell those to me quite clearly. These monuments not only gave me the answer to my Metaphor but also an endless inspiration for how to use my Ether.

 

But these words… they are far more than the simple guidance given in The Cabin. The knowledge lost because of the Mother Below's corruption is… inconceivable. Thank you, Gluskab… Even thousands of years after your fall, you still aid us. My fifth Sigil was my third Sexton, taking a slightly closer step toward Death as opposed to life, the Abbot.

 

The reader of this page now plants their feet steadily onto their fifth step of the stair, and for that, I congratulate you.

 

Your fifth Sigil towards Duality and toward Conjunction.

 

The Ghostsguard

 

The being of life with tinges of death in a world where only one may exist concurrently. Able to contort and twists souls to fight for your designs. Spirits will go out of their way to guard you, and you can cloak yourself in their benevolence. Your bones, the aspect of your Metamorphosis, may now hold the spirits just as your heart once did. Your lifeblood, Vigor, is now even more susceptible to your pull. You walk along the edge. Be careful not to stray too far.

 

And just as your bones gain spirituality, they also gain density. For the skeleton of a Ghostguard to shatter requires breathtaking force.

 

Welcome to my Cathedral, my dear Ghostsguard. I wish I could greet you in person, but I am long gone. What remains is but a flickering ember guarded by the remnants of faith. Congratulations on making it halfway, in number at least, for the journey has just begun. Speak to my fragment left, and learn from it. All may ask it one question about themselves, and I will do my best to answer.

 

So, what is yours?

 

My mind stutters as I read Gluskab, himself, well, a fragment of him trying to speak to me. It seems as though the Mother Below didn't remove this fragment. It's likely useful for guiding whoever it sends here, as the more powerful a Motherbound is, the more sentient they are. So, the Fallen and Manipulators probably enjoy the benefits of Gluskab's fragment within the Cathedral of Eyes.

 

I get to ask it a question. What do I possibly ask it?! I should ask about Ether, right? For a way to further one of my skills? That seems the most useful. What other knowledge could I need right now? How to get out of here? No, that's not required. I see further down the page the way out, and Wyatt can likely use that, too, since he followed me through here using my own vision.

 

Speaking of, it's pretty fascinating that he managed to do that. I've never heard of anything letting one join another inside The Cabin or any other Lighthouses.

 

"Hurry up! We don't have much time! They're about to all reach the door!"

 

Oh fuck! Enough of that; I need to focus. I'm low on time. I speak my question out loud. I need a way to move faster, fight faster, and keep up with those better than me, just as Wyatt does. As things are right now, I have the toughness and utility to keep myself alive in a fight, especially with that cloak of spirits the tome just spoke of. Still, I need raw speed and power to keep up.

 

"How do I improve my Adrenaline Surge to match my Sigil?"

 

A half-second passes before words start swirling around the page, answering my question in a fantastic way. One that I would never have thought of. And as it answers my question, I am given a multitude of examples with the skill given to me within my mind. These measures will be instrumental when learning it for myself.

 

The Ghostsguard can enhance their bodies with the spectral that have come to their aid, both externally and internally. You know how to do the former, even if rudimentary, but the latter is far more problematic. Take a spirit, and while deepening the number of streams, braidedness, and density of your Ether, drill the spirit into your heart, forcing it to beat as one with you. This is the best current way to improve Adrenaline Surge, a skill that primarily focuses on short-term strength, speed, and endurance, as you are not yet capable of later feats of Ether or more complicated ones. Now, your question is answered. We shall move on.

 

May your journey, while certainly filled with complications, be glorious, long, and worthy of my aid.

 

I quickly move on to the other side of the page, the one detailing my Metaphor, barely giving me time to fully imagine the new skill.

 

A Ghostsguard is able to use the souls of others to empower themselves and protect that which matters. But for a Ghostsguard to grow further, extend the reach of what souls they can grasp. And to be prepared to do so, they must find an answer to the Ghostguard's Metaphor.

 

How should one pay their respects to the fallen, the forgotten, and even the never remembered?

 

To continue, my Ghostsguard, place your mind within the Sigil and return to whence you came.

 

Quickly, I learn what it told me to do for my guidance and memorize my Metaphor. As I do so, I hear a bursting of a door and turn to see Wyatt being sent flying and rolling along the hard stone floor.

 

Panicked, scared, and guilty for becoming too engrossed in the book while he's struggling to keep us alive, I yell to him.

 

"Come to me! The way out is in the book!"

 

I see him scramble to get all with a hundred and one monsters on his back, almost all of them drooling for his body to soon become a tasty corpse. Beads of sweat pour down my back as I move forward to help him.

 

****************

Wyatt Graves

 

My head slams against the hard stone, shaking my vision and making me feel a warm wetness on my skull that digs deep, very deep. However, the warmth is paltry compared to the pain spiking inside my mind, so plunging that I can feel my being recoil. A pain that makes me realize what happens to injuries inside this place.

 

They go to the soul, straight to what makes us, us.

 

But I can't spend any time worrying or recovering. I need to move, Blake is yelling at me to go to her, and the scrambling of feet, legs, and any other limb those monsters might use to move is deafening.

 

My feet kick out as I push myself up, blood dripping to the ground from my head as the pain exists only inside. The wind brushes past me as Blake pulls me forward, something just an inch from digging its claws into me. We move faster now that we are together, and she brings me rapidly to the tome placed on the pedestal.

 

I don't have any time to read the words, no matter how curious I may be; instead, the screech of a dog-like human with teeth for skin makes me follow Blake's movement, placing my hand onto the Sigil inscribed onto the paper that makes up hers. I see a curious thing for only a split second: a man sitting with his legs crossed, one side decayed and the other effervescent, the two sides almost swaying.

 

Then, just as quickly as I arrived, I left, my eyes opening with my own two eyes instead of another's as I frantically look for Blake, hoping that what happened wasn't just some kind of dream. And after just a moment, her eyes flutter open, and a broad smile pulled onto them.

 

She leans forward and hugs me, a thank you on her lips.

 

"Thank you, Wyatt! You don't know how much it means to me for someone to be willing to do that. You had no idea what you were getting into, and you jumped into the deep end anyway. Thank you."

 

I sputter out a weak welcome and push her back, unable to contain my curiosity, surprise, and general confusion at what the fuck just happened to her and to me. I see Johnny in the corner of my eye turn as he watches us intently, a short smile on his lips.

 

"You-you're welcome, but what the hell happened to us?! Where the fuck were we? That was no cabin!"

 

Blake puts her hands up and explains a little bit to me and the others who are awake, namely, Johnny and Silas; all the while, she pulls the ghost wrapped around her neck for safety and throws it into the river a few dozen feet away.

 

"Bleh. Glad that's over with now. Anyway, so what happened is that every race has a Lighthouse, a place we go for our Sigils, but it was not always that way. Gluskab made one for each race, different and made for us individually, even the demons, as they can be independent of the Mother Below, for Gluskab cherished individuality."

 

I nod as she takes a breath. I already know this. The Cabin is for humans, and I think the pits of something are for demons, while the Ruthless Nest is for the Bado. She sees my knowledge and moves on.

 

"But The Cabin was not always ours. It was originally made for the creatures of the forests, the bears, foxes, wolves, etc. The Cathedral Of Eyes, a special place, was made for us, humanity, his favorite due to our expressed individuality compared to most other races. The Cathedral is more helpful for advancement than the other places, or at least it used to be before the Mother Below corrupted it, as it allows one to ask a question to a remnant of the fallen God. Whether it's about Ether or a solution to a problem, as long as it directly involves you, it can be answered."

 

The news is a shock to me, and it seems to also shock Silas and Johnny as they move closer, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. How does Blake know all this? Right. She steals books and whatnot to learn. I'm sure she knows a bunch of stuff that most people don't or shouldn't.

 

Johnny does raise a question to her, however, as I think for myself.

 

"And what was the question you asked? I do hope it was worth it, Blake because what you did was risky. Wyatt-risky."

 

Blake kind of wriggles on the rock she's sitting on, embarrassed as she tries to explain herself to the Gunfighter, and she focuses on the accusation rather than the question he proposed, her voice hitching and stuttering.

 

"Www-we were covered in Plagued and Motherbound as we were the furthest forward when Wyatt broke the tunnel. H-h-had I not gone beyond my limit of Ether, we would have died. You don't have Downpour anymore. And had I not taken the Sigil of the Plagued that I stabbed, I would have been either ripped apart by Ether saturation, spent weeks to months recovering as I didn't go all that far past it like Wyatt does, or promptly taken over by the Darklight I was holding back with my Bond."

 

Her words make sense. She didn't seem to go far past that Ether limit, as she didn't immediately start turning to fleshy goo like I do. Of course, most only dip their toes past it to reach for extra power at the risk of being crippled for months, but even that takes an incredible force of will. I should know. I did that on my first day as a Sigiled.

 

I haven't gone that distance in a long time, typically, I reach far, far past what I should, and that makes me die rapidly, leaving no time at all for Ether saturation recovery. Her reasoning also makes Johnny nod as he stands, pointing a finger at the two of us.

 

"You're off the hook on this one, Blake, but be more careful. We have one Wyatt. We don't need another, or we'll all get killed."

 

I blurt out at him as he kicks Bonfire's leg to wake the poor man up.

 

"Hey! What does that mean!?"

 

Johnny's eyes flicker to me with too much intensity as he glares at me. The pyro groans as he opens his eyes before smiling as he sees Skychaser is still asleep. Fire burns in his hand as he slowly makes it approach the Bado's nose in a prankish way. Reminds me of Otto and Marion; though those two did it to each other, Bonfire does it with anyone he can get his hands on.

 

"You know what I mean. Reckless, prefers to fight over thinking, and has a death wish. Though, I will admit what you did was far better than usual. Instead of fighting to the death, you thought ahead. Good job, ay! Stop it, Bonfire! Let him sleep a few more minutes, you dickhead!"

 

Johnny bursts out at Bonfire as relief hits me for not being pressured by him anymore. Still, his attention rapidly turns back in my direction, but thankfully, not at me.

 

"Oh, and Blake, how is your new Sigil? Anything interesting?"

 

His question makes her energetic as she stands and looks around, finding several corpses not that far away from fallen Plagued. She tells us to wait one moment, and we all wait, curious, as she eventually walks back to the whole group awake, three swirling translucent ghosts in her arms.

 

"Before, as Ghostbond, I could only Bond with one ghost as they had to live inside my heart. But now, I can store them inside my bones as well. Now I can have a whole bunch more of these! I'm not restricted to just one at a time! So many possibilities exist. The skill I got from the Cathedral seems to allow me to twist and morph these souls to better fit my needs, from armor to a cloak. Maybe even something like a bullet if I get good enough at it. Oh, and the Cathedral Of Eyes told me how to advance my Adrenaline Surge using these ghosts, so I'm quite excited to learn that too."

 

Blake finishes her explanation as she takes the souls in her hands from the dead Plagued, something that is slightly off-putting but just the way the world works, and creates a flowing dress over her body. It is translucent, dim, and thin, with only three souls that made it, but the construction is impressive.

 

The woman twirls with a laugh despite the grimness of what she just did, using souls to create a dress. Skychaser initially looks uncomfortable as they are souls from his people, making Blake stop.

 

"Can you not do that with my people? It is one thing to fight with it, but another to play."

 

Blake's face falls, her eyes red and watery as she tries apologizing, but Johnny cuts her off.

 

"It's fine, Skychaser. Remember, these aren't your people anymore. These are not their souls. So let her have some fun with the soul of monsters."

 

Skychaser is silent for a moment before nodding toward Blake.

 

"Sorry, he is right. Continue."

 

And then, with that said, Blake continues her little dance, shifting the dress to a cloak, bow, and sword as she joyfully tests the limits of her new skill from her Sigil.

 

I can't help but smile at her joy, and everyone else does, too, giving us a short moment of happiness in this dark cave. But after just a few moments, Johnny, the ruiner of fun, makes us move.

 

"Alright, alright. You're very pretty, Blake, but we need to move."

 

Groans come out, but we all move forward through the Connector, searching for a way to our friends in Blight Spire.