She couldn't sleep. For hours, she laid on the operating table staring at the dead lamps above her. Should I run? Nu wondered as she sat up, no, he would probably expect that. Shadow had been gone for a few hours. Surely, he wouldn't be confident of her getting away if he had not left her for so long.
Still, she got up, walked towards the operating room doors, and pushed them open. No one was waiting for her outside; not Shadow, or that child, Ravage. Nobody. She shyly put one foot out to test the fiend in case he hid, but, again, he did not appear to perturb her.
She walked down the halls, promising herself to keep within the hospital and not take any chances. Perhaps the shade allowed her some freedom; though, Nu suspected, only to buy her cooperation rather than out of concern for her comfort.
Nu was fascinated with the lair: a place of healing for non-magical people. Instead of curing waters, they created mixtures of varying ingredients; working at the broken with little blades and tools and hopefully, if they were repaired well enough, they would return to their healthy self. She had gotten all this information from Jayden, who seems to have come from such a world.
"A tragic little world," said the voice of the Aether, this time speaking from outside her skull, "void of magic."
This was the first time the spirit manifested itself.
Here, it stood in front of her, slowly forming from white and blue mists that lit up the dank hallways before her. When it grew thicker, the shape it took was of her mother.
"Mama!" Nu went to embrace the fog, but it only dissipated within her arms.
"I am not your mother," said the Aether in the same emotionless tones it always had, "I take this form because of the meaning it has to you."
"Oh ... " Nuallis thought sadly, feeling a little embarrassed for calling out for her mother.
"The one who you call mother exists, as do all souls," said the Aether more of to lecture her than to offer sympathy, "there is never a goodbye."
"Will I ever see her again?"
"Your mother? Yes, and all those who came before. This is why you must awaken. We must become one."
"What do you mean?"
"For millenia, the Aether Spirit has returned, time and time again, yet it has failed to accomplish its goal. To reunite the dead, the damned, and those who wait to decay. It is our duty to create a paradise amongst the souls, great and small, where only peace shall reign."
"That sounds ... amazing, but ... why has there been a failure in the past?"
"Because of men like Caecius. Elementalists fought over my power, many suffered, and perished. The light became darkness in some periods. They hunted your predecessors, fearing you would abuse your power or to smother a war before it could start. Nineteen years you have survived. That makes me optimistic."
They turned down a hall and, to their left, a room was filled with pews and its windows were leaded and stained with beautiful colors. Nuallis sauntered in. The pews faced a marble statue: a winged woman in platemail, her robes leaking from beneath her suit. Above her head, there was a mass of circles and spikes, this piece wrought in brass, tarnished over time. From her back sprouted four glorious wings.
"Ooooo ... " Nuallis mused at the figure, "who is she?" I wish I could be brave like her.
"People desire something greater to rescue them from your sorrows." The Aether, too, admired the statue. "In this realm," the spirit said as it stroked the brass halo, "and perhaps all realms, this idea holds true."
"Even other spirits?" Nu asked, "what about Shadow?"
The Aether mused at the thought of the fiend.
"That spirit ... though he is alien to our sphere of reality, he does remind me of my brother, Chaos. Though, this Shadow ... he is of a different substance."
Nu was bewildered to see this great spirit in utter amusement.
"We have to stop him, yes?" Nu asked.
"Of course." The Aether said though she was still lost in contemplation. "I'd like to speak to him, however."
They both grew silent, admiring the statue.
This will be me, promised Nu, silently to herself, for my friends, family ... Everyone.
The idol had a name, embossed on its pedestal. 490Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrTBesJOTBR
Weaver was the name of this guardian.
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