Honoka lifted a hand into the sky. In her open palm, a small bird made of fire manifested, looking around curiously. Honoka leaned in to whisper at it for a moment, before launching the Avian construct into the sky. The flaming bird chirped at her once, before zooming away.
Towards the Uprising camp.
Meanwhile, I was sitting on the ground not far from her, leaning against the wall of the Gyreite Church. I don’t mind saying that I felt like absolute shit right about now.
A week.
I’d been reassured for over a week now that I had nothing to worry about when it came to my arm. I didn’t regret my choice to protect Sylvia, which led to me losing it. But I’d been told repeatedly that it wasn’t any issue getting it regrown. It had been those reassurances that had kept me from depression spiraling about losing a part of my body.
Now that the hope of regrowth had been stolen from me, I felt like I had just lost my arm all over again. In a way I had.
My left arm was gone for good. There was no magical solution that was going to bring it back now.
I stared down at my one good hand now, flexing it over and over. At the very least, it was my dominant one.
I had no idea how long I spent, simply staring down at my palm and allowing myself to finally grieve. I was only broken out of my contemplation when I felt a hand touch my shoulder lightly. Blinking, I raised my head to meet a pair of black and silver eyes.
Grey’s.
My mentor was kneeling in front of me, hand still on my shoulder, and a compassionate look on his wizened features. When he saw that he had caught my attention, he nodded at me and stood up, hand falling away. Instead, he extended it in front of him for me to grasp.
I took a deep breath and held it for four seconds. I breathed out, slowly, and then nodded to myself.
I took Grey’s hand and stood.
“Let’s go,” Grey said, meeting my eyes again. “This isn’t over just yet. I believe it’s time we have a little chat with the Preceptor.”
I nodded silently at Grey. Over his shoulder, I noticed that Honoka was still here, watching Grey and I with a deep frown etched on her face. She nodded at me silently as well, for once not sniping in my direction.
Good. I don’t know if I had it in me right now to keep that up.
Grey strode over to the doors of the Church that had failed me, and with a flick of his fingers, they opened before him.
Preceptor Josha was waiting for us, standing behind his podium. The man had a death grip on it but displayed no discomfort on his face. He nodded in welcome at us but waited for Grey to speak first.
Grey obliged him. “Good day, Preceptor…?” He said, casually approaching the pulpit.
“Josha, Headmaster,” The Preceptor said, inclining his head at Grey. He stepped from behind his podium and gestured with his hand towards a different door than the one that led to the ritual room. “If we could continue this conversation in my office?”
Grey inclined his head right back at him. “By all means, lead the way.”
Josha approached the door to his apparent office and held it open for the three of us. We obliged, finding it to be a simple room. It wasn’t very large and was very modestly furnished. Inside there was really only a simple desk, a few chairs, and a handful of filled-to-the-brim bookcases. Once all three of us were inside, Josha followed and crossed the room to sit in the chair behind his desk. He gestured silently to the two chairs that were in front of him.
Honoka stayed near the door with her arms crossed, while Grey and I sat down in the indicated seats. Josha folded his hands in front of him. I think it was to hide his own nervousness, as I saw the man’s fingers trembling ever so slightly.
Grey spoke first again. “I must say, to my knowledge, this is an unprecedented situation,” He said, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. He paused his drumming when he noticed the Preceptor's nervousness as well. “Do calm down, Preceptor. I promise that you’re in no danger. Historically, I’ve had little to no conflicts with the Church of the Gyre.”
Josha stilled for a moment and then shook his head. “Ah. Apologies, Headmaster. I’m not frightened of you. I’m afraid that I’m unsettled by another manner. You see, I had time to…consult with the Church hierarchy while we awaited your presence.”
“Ah!” Grey exclaimed, leaning forward. “The vaunted Gyre Glass. I see. You know, I once attempted to replicate its long-range communication properties. I’m afraid I met with some rather spectacular failures.”
Gyre Glass…
So, the Church had the ability to speak to each other long distance? Like a…phone or something? Why did things like messengers still exist then?
Josha smiled slightly. “Yes, we know. However, regarding your new apprentice?” He asked leadingly. Grey raised a hand in apology, sitting back. “My report on the situation was strange enough that it was elevated to the highest office. Not long ago, I spoke to the Primector about the failure to regenerate Mr. Hart’s left arm. If I seem on edge at all, it’s simply because this is the first time I’ve ever caught his direct attention.”
Grey hummed. “How interesting. It’s been years and years since Aurelius and I spoke. What insight into this matter did he have?”
Josha took a deep breath, his deep blue eyes flickering my way for a moment. “I would like to remind you about the neutrality of the Church, Headmaster. Not as a warning,” He amended hastily, when Grey raised an eyebrow. “But as a reassurance. We are not inclined to share any sensitive information that was, perhaps inadvertently, discovered today.”
Oh.
I see…
Grey must have as well, judging by the way his eyes narrowed slightly.
Josha cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Having said that, the Church of the Gyre is aware of certain…fringe cases where the Rite of Regeneration has failed in the past. Certain confidential research was conducted on this matter many years ago, and I have been allowed to share its findings with you. It has to do with the nature of how the Rite functions, you see. Do to our…relationship with the Gyre, blessings be upon it, we are capable of performing the Rite of Regeneration in the first place. A Status, as it is bestowed upon the individual, possesses more inherent functions than is typically displayed to most Awoken.”
“This isn’t new to me,” Grey said, furrowing his brow. “In academic circles, it’s well known that a Status has layers to it that are hidden. Or else how would things like System Judgements even happen?”
I nodded along, considering the matter. That made sense to me. I’d always known there was more to a Status than what was shown to me. Not because of something like a Judgment, even if I’d experienced one. No, it was because of the hidden functions of my own Precursor Status that I’d kept quiet about from everyone. Even Grey.
Meanwhile, Josha nodded. “Just so. However, one of those hidden functions is the entire basis of the Rite. Headmaster, I’m sure you’re aware of what the actual class that most Preceptors pursue is, correct?” At Grey’s curious nod, Josha looked over at me briefly. “For the sake of your young friend, however, I will elaborate. The actual class that was pioneered by Primector Zheng Wei many centuries ago, Preceptor, does not possess any direct combat abilities.”
My eyebrows rose at that.
“Oh yes,” Josha nodded at me. “Preceptor might be one of the only examples of a class that exists under the System that has limited combat capabilities. We’re not defenseless, of course. But rather, those of us who devote ourselves to the Gyre pursue a utility class. Preceptor is a class that is focused on the Status. It allows us to, shall we say, peel back the curtain on the inner workings of it. Our main ability is something called Delve. With it, we can enter into a state of deep meditation, allowing us to ponder the deep and divine mysteries inherent in a Status. The Skill can only be used on oneself, of course. It would be a violation of the highest order if it was able to be used on others.”
Honoka snorted from behind us, momentarily drawing the attention of everyone in the room. While Grey gave her a sharp warning glance, causing her to hold up her hands in surrender, I gave her a curious one.
What was that about?
“This isn’t a secret, either,” Grey told me, dragging his eyes away from Honoka. “It’s something of a draw for those individuals who are both curious and full of faith. I understand that the Skill is something not dissimilar to an extremely powerful Observe that can be used only on oneself.”
“Correct, Headmaster,” Josha smiled at the two of us. “The point is, Primector Zheng Wei discovered a hidden repository of knowledge inside his Status many years ago. Inside was what one could call a…template of sorts. This template was a detailed design of what a person’s body should be at full health. We believe that it is this template that facilitates the natural healing inherent in the Awoken. In other words, the body is encouraged to return to the state present in one’s template.”
Grey’s eyes widened in shock, sitting bolt upright in his chair. “And that’s the mystery of how Preceptors are able to regrow missing body parts!” He exclaimed, delighted. “You tap into that template, and encourage the body to return to that state! My gods, that’s brilliant. It bypasses the inherent inability of the body to regrow limbs through the use of a backdoor.”
I tilted my head in thought. But…
“All right, I’m just going to lay this out on the table,” I said, drawing everyone’s attention. “No need to dance around it anymore, yeah? I’m a Precursor, and I know Zheng Wei was a Precursor. You’ve been implying that the Rite doesn’t work on me because I’m a Precursor. How was Wei able to make this ritual work if he was one as well?”
Josha winced at my bluntness but still nodded. “History tells us it was a great tragedy that Wei the Righteous was able to develop this method of regeneration, but was unable to use it himself. You see, he had lost both of his legs in battle many years ago, which is how he came to study with the Church of yesteryear. In his search for a mystical solution, he would develop both the class and the Ritual needed, but could not utilize them. You are correct, Mr. Hart. You cannot undergo the Rite of Regeneration because of your status as a Precursor. What Primector Wei discovered is that his own template was…corrupted in a way that he was unable to put into words. Access to it was restricted, even with the help of the System and the Rite he developed. Still, it was a monumental boon to the people of Vereden, as our individual Statuses are not quite as…locked down as that of a Precursor’s. I’m afraid that your options are limited if you wish to regain your arm. Perhaps your only true option is to hope that one of your classes will provide an intensely powerful regeneration Skill.”
I lowered my head, gaze falling to my lap at the Preceptor's words.
I see…
Grey stood up from his chair when Josha was finished speaking. “Thank you for your explanation, Preceptor Josha,” He said diplomatically. At Josha’s answering nod, Grey continued. “I believe we’ll be on our way then. Since the Church cannot help, we will pursue other methods of regeneration. Let’s go,” He said to Honoka and I.
“Good day, Headmaster. I’m sorry we couldn’t help you, Mr. Hart,” Preceptor Josha said to me consolingly. I just smiled weakly at him and stood up as well.
Honoka opened the door to Josha’s office and stalked out, while Grey and I followed her. Once we were out of the Church, Grey set his hand on my shoulder once again. He sighed. “We’ll find a way, Nathan. I promise you. For now, let’s go back to camp, shall we? I believe accommodations have already been prepared for us.”
I nodded, and with one last glance at the Church, followed Grey through the streets of Silvercrest.
Hours later, I was sitting on my bed in my personal tent inside the Uprising camp. When we had gotten back here, I had dodged curious and concerned questions from Sylvia and Azarus and retreated here, once shown the way by Grey.
I just wanted to be alone.
I had been restless for hours now, but I didn’t want to leave these cloth walls and talk about how I felt. I’m sure Grey and Honoka had informed the others that I couldn’t get my arm back, and I frankly didn’t want to deal with them just yet.
Instead, I’d been pondering the problem in my own way.
How do I fix this?
I think I’d hit upon an idea.
What did I have that other people didn’t? An extremely powerful, multidisciplinary crafting Profession, that’s what. If I couldn’t regrow my arm, I was just going to have to replace it with something else.
And I think I knew how.
My gaze fell on the mystically potent bars of gold that Woodrick had gifted me the other night.
