Another Beginning

*by Skye*

# Genesis

It… doesn’t quite begin in darkness.

It begins in memories, half-remembered and distantly cherished, it begins in the sea of a lifetime you don’t recognise, in words and actions that are so familiar yet they keep slipping like sand through your clenched hands.

A home, a familiar face, a distorted name. Emotions you can’t quite place, can’t remember feeling. A jolt disrupts the sea, memories turning to static as you flinch violently. Visions fade, and *then*, there is darkness.

*‘Rune Knight….’*

That.. doesn’t quite sound like your own thoughts? ‘*Where did that come from-’*

‘*Wake up, Rune Knight*!’

Rune Knight? What is… Is that what you are? Your name….? No, that can’t be right.

“Wake up, Champion!”

Scarce memories strike you yet again like a blinding bolt of lightning, swooping deja vu breaking through the clouded fog. *Agatha*. The voice is Agatha- a lifeline, a friend.

One from another lifetime, perhaps, but you *trust her*. And though you don’t quite know why…. Well, she’s all you have.

Huh, that’s it, isn’t it? A voice in your head and total amnesia. Off to a wonderful start.

“Champion, our city lies in ruins."

"-I have restored you to life once again so you may fight the scourge that plagues our land.."

“Rokar- it is no more.”

Despair grips you, and worst of all, you don’t understand *why*. Why 'Rokar*'* means so much and why you must be bombarded with yet more feelings whose reason you can never place. Shoulders tense and hands clench involuntarily, an instinctive stance. Stars, it’s all so *frustrating*, like-

like stumbling through the aftermath of a tragic story you’ve never read, and all you know is that you were doomed to fail.

The ground in front of you shifts suddenly, forming vaguely humanoid, contrasting shapes of black and green. A shuffling amalgamation of crystals, steel and worn leathers emerges amidst the darkness. Head tilting inquisitively, you inspect this new… creature. A friend arriving to join your eternal purgatory?

“Defend yourself!”

Of course not.

# Fight

Time seems to slow as the creature lunges, a rusted blade poised for a vicious strike. Something pulses within you, with thrill and with sheer fury- Fury at the enigmatic situation you were dropped in so carelessly, at your lack of anything, even a name, at a hostile environment hellbent on making matters worse, at-

“Summon your weapons, Champion!”

Weapons?

Teachings from what may have been aeons past rush back to you; Ground yourself, knees bent, measured steps. Energy thrums through your veins and pours out of your very soul, manifesting within your hands as two beautiful, *lethal* blades. Grasping the cold steel, your arm seems to pull up on its own accord, buried instincts taking over.

Sparks fly as the blades clash, the creature forced to stop cold in its tracks. The sparks grow brighter and brighter, coalescing, blinding you. The brightness dims, and you’re hit with the conflictingly pleasant aroma of wild flowers as the world fades into bursts of vivid colour. A lush green battlefield that you never get to appreciate surrounds you, for your opponent rushes in yet again.

An upward swing- It throws its body-weight forward recklessly only to be batted aside with casual ease. It repositions, following up with two quick swings yet you stay unyielding, advancing forward. The creature changes pace again; Its arm lashes out wildly only to be dodged with a lazy sidestep. An attempt to press on is met with a brutal kick crashing into its jaw. Head snapping back, flecks of broken crystal fly as it staggers.

For the first time since you gained consciousness, you feel the urge to grin. Now this, this particular dance you can perform all day and night. You kick off the ground and hurtle forward, the energy burning within you leaving a blazing trail in your wake. *CRASH!* You ram into the creature shoulder-first, and in the blink of an eye trap their weapon with your dagger. You raise your head, glaring and channelling your anger into a decisive strike.

Your sword strikes true as shattered crystal and a shattered body fly through the air, slamming into trees of geometric design. With a flourish, you drop into a relaxed stance. Turning around, you notice a bloom of blue shards emerging from where your opponent had been moments ago. Curious.

"Well done! Your... Rest certainly had little effect on your fighting prowess, Champion. Gather the purified Aether, we can make use of it later."

With little else to do, you obey your guide.

*Aether,* so that is the mystery material your opponent seemed to be composed of. That seems entwined with the very land itself, scattered between wild grass and creeping upon trees.

(It doesn't escape your notice that the Aether invading your surroundings seems to carry an odd red sheen. Almost as if it is… Tainted, somehow, corrupting the very earth.)

Seconds later, a different glint catches your eye. Holding your sword up, you finally take the time to assess your own reflection.

Cold unfamiliarity is your reward as you come face to face with a crowned helmet of white and heroic gold, with glaring eyes of crystal and brilliant blue. Metal armour shines; An extension of your very self, decorated with tattered fabrics of green and gold. Aether glows blue beneath the metallic surface, a cape flutters in the wind, and all along you are a spectator- a stranger to your own self.

Glancing back at your helmet you try to…. Do *something*, who knows, but the metal remains impassive, emotionless. You idly wonder what exactly you were meant to do to begin with.

Tilting your weapon back you choose to inspect the hilt instead, admiring careful circuitry entwined within its engravings. Impressive technology which somehow sparks more memories than your own face, because of course the universe truly has it out for you that day. Complex wireframes and a subtle blue sheen conceal a promise of raw power, of sophisticated magicks and deadly elegance. A call breaks you out of your reverie.

“Our time runs short. You must press on, Champion. No matter who stands in your way, return to the Forge!”

The blades in your hand sing, compel you. *This is your purpose.* This *is what you were created for. Fight. Rise.*

Who are you to deny it?

# Fall

Stars, this is disappointingly easy.

More of the creature's brethren had stood guard around roadways and intersections, armed and ready to ruin your day. Each sported decaying armour and decaying bodies, crystalline mockeries of something human. Mere husks.

And thus just like their doomed brother, they fell.

The first one never even gets the luxury of raising its weapon. You dash forward and in a heartbeat you're *there*, face to face with this unfortunate soul, sword buried hilt deep in its chest. Twisting sideways you wrench your weapon free and liberate another's head from its shoulders without losing momentum. Hurried footsteps alert you and you pirouette away from a charging third. With each kill your blades shine brighter, stronger; Dozens fall by your hand, barely a hindrance. Honestly, is this even fair?

Ah well, they started it.

You charge forward to your destination, undeterred, unstoppable, Agatha's voice guiding your path and sheer power rushing through your metallic veins. Rather soon, a brand new opponent blockades your pathway. Surprisingly, a familiar one. You've seen that armour before, once, when assessing your own reflection. Except this version looks more like a corrupt imitation, permeating chaotic energy in waves of bright red.

*Another ‘Rune Knight’?*

Huh. You aren't certain of what you were expecting, but an evil twin was probably not it.

Sadly, your twin doesn't last for long, for yet another brand new creature pounces upon it to steal its glory and- by the Void, what is *that?*

The.. *Monstrosity* rears upwards, glowering at you with fiery eyes. Dread and disorienting deja-vu nearly knock you off balance, your chest burns with phantom pain. With a sinking feeling, you realise you may have an inkling of what it might be.

Why you had to be resuscitated in the first place.

"No… NO! You're not ready for this, not yet!"

Dark claws scrape the ground as it prowls around the enclosed field, jagged obsidian taking the place of skin and molten aether jutting out of its back. Black crystals form a vague mimicry of a face- The towering construct lets out a wild howl.

*By the moons.*

“Hold your own!”

You grasp your weapons tightly, steeling yourself. *You've got this*. The previous constructs were *jokes*, what's a slightly bigger one? Just a bigger joke. You are the Champion, you're *unstoppable.*

The construct approaches you slowly, preparing to pounce again. It never gets the satisfaction.

Aetheric energy propels you forward. *CLANG!* metal clashes as you smash straight into your adversary. The creature steps back in surprise, and you don't let the weakness fly. Twin blades cut deep arcs into its skin; you dance away just as a massive claw comes crashing down. Your target sweeps its arm in a wide arc- you jump back, rolling away from danger.

Rivulets of power radiate from your dagger, strengthened from the sacrifice of all who you have destroyed. You charge forward, sliding under a claw swipe. Your sword slashes and the creature leans back, surprisingly nimble- But the distraction is enough for you to jam your dagger into its shoulder. You *push*, pouring every ounce of energy radiating through your blade into your enemy; Blinding light emits from the point of contact. The creature is sent flying backwards- Then it halts in place, trapped in stasis by an otherworldly force.

Not so fearsome anymore.

You bring your weapons down with fury, the spell breaks as steel crashes. It staggers and you thrust, ramming your sword into its back. Broken crystals fly. It spins around, cleaving with both claws. You parry the first; the force nearly knocks you off balance, but you manage. You step back.

Your sword slices cleanly as the second claw sweeps, slashing one long digit free. The construct yowls, dropping to its knees.

Your shoulders relax, basking in your victor-

A claw rams into your chest, the creature swinging blindly. You fly backwards, rolling to a stop. You scramble to your feet. The creature charges, enraged, and you dodge by mere inches. It unleashes a furious combo of swipes, forcing you onto the defensive. It rears upwards, and you brace yourself for the incoming strike.

Except it never arrives. It bashes the ground, and the earth shakes. A sudden pressure on your chest compels you to look down and-

You stare numbly at the spikes protruding from the ground, through your chest and broken limbs. Your inspection doesn't last long as another skewers straight through your helmet.

Once again, there is darkness.

# Rise

Visions and colours flit in and out before your eyes, a chaotic and confusing sequence of events. A city stretches out as far as the eye can see- A great tower, metal and Aether entwining together, A field of blooming flowers, A desolate landscape consumed with crystal and malice. The earth shakes, erupting chaos; demonic eyes flash.

A distant, muddled scream. You reach out for something, *someone*. Your arm is curiously devoid of metal; made of flesh and bone, nothing more.

(.....Isn't that how it's supposed to be?)

"Now you see why I have restored you…"

The visions flee, your sight slowly returning to normal.

'*There seems to be a pattern of events here.’*

"-We must find it again! If that creature is not stopped, it may unravel all of reality."

Except you aren't really listening. The words fade into the background as all too abruptly, your most recent demise comes rushing back to you.

*'Oh, stars.*'

You can't help but stare at your hands, returned to a pristine condition, except they *shouldn't be*, you died, you were utterly broken and you *died* and you were so much more helpless than you could’ve ever known, than you ever realised, *stars*-

“Champion?”

You startle, trembling and clenched fists loosening slightly.

“Are you… alright?”

Hah. Why would you ever *not* be alright? You stay fixed upon your spot, betraying no emotion, yet Agatha sighs, seemingly having read your mind.

“I understand this situation is.. more than a little overwhelming. I’m sorry, Champion, for placing this burden upon you and only you, but times are dire. If I could answer every one of your many questions I would, but my knowledge of your previous life is scarce.”

How did she know what you were thinking of-? You think back to your resuscitation, how Agatha seems to communicate to you from within your mind itself, sees what your eyes see. Huh, perhaps the mind-reading may have been more literal than you realised.

Deciding that having a person living within your mind is a can of worms you’ll open far, far into the future, you attempt to collect yourself. Now is definitely not the time to be an emotional mess. You can survive stalling off the questions nagging away in the back of your mind for a little longer.

(Forever, if need be.)

You can sense Agatha’s reservations about your methods, though she remains quiet.

You step forward, out of the revival chamber and into an underground labyrinth- or, rather, what once might have been big enough to be one.

A wide circular area stretches out before you, lined with stone and surrounded by debris. To your left are broken and chipped pedestals, the two farthest from you displaying flickering holograms. A small, ruined training area lies to your right. Yet another hologram is placed before the wall except this one takes a form similar to the husks you had encountered; A training dummy?

Winding paths branch out beyond the main area, but the few that hadn’t collapsed are blocked by rubble. Front and center, though, resides the main attraction: a gigantic circular structure lies dormant, lined with glowing violet runes. A distant memory sparks; *Portal,* it’s a portal. Above the portal lies a magnificent fixture of polished Aether forming geometric shapes, almost like stained glass- A work of art.

You can’t help but grow tense as you take in the destruction; What caused this? Did the obsidian creature you faced wreck this place too? How did it get in here, and can it enter again? Were you truly safe here? Were you safe *anywhere?*

The aetheric fixture glows blue,

“Champion! It’s alright, the Forge has been sealed. The Aether Horror can not reach us here. You are safe, rest assured.”

‘*....Agatha? Is that.. you?’*

She chuckles, “Yes, Champion.”

..Well, it’s not the wildest thing you’ve seen today.

You relax, slowly. Moving forward, you inspect the two holograms on the other side of the Forge. These you recognise instantly: A graceful dagger, blade curving into the shape of a claw. By its side rests an axe- Ornate in design, though you know that makes the weapon no less vicious.

*Steel glints in the sun as enemies are torn asunder, your weapon cleaving through armour and bone with effortless ease. You rip your axe away, nothing but trails of emerald energy left in your wake.*

You tear your gaze away, but it’s of no use. The questions buried away moments ago surge again with a vengeance, each vying for attention.

“Something you’d like to say, Champion?”

…You suppose you can’t avoid your past forever, not at this rate. Might as well this over with.

*‘..Who are you, exactly? I knew you, once, I think. Were you a friend?’*

“I’m one of the Rokari, like you are. I was a Runeforger, a weapons-maker for the Rokari imperial army. Now, I reside in the Forge. We were… allies, yes, and now, I suppose I act as a guiding hand.”

You glance at the fixture once more. Huh, a rather permanent residence.

She laughs, “Indeed. Anything else you would like to ask?”

*‘You said your knowledge of my previous life is scarce, but you must know* something*, right? I was just wondering if you could clear up… well, it’s just-’*

Agatha waits patiently as you struggle to articulate your thoughts.

*‘...I don’t understand. I clearly have memories locked away, a past that does not belong to me anymore, but its recovery seems to be triggered by the strangest things. My own self is utterly unfamiliar to me, yet these blades, my enemies, parts of the Forge, these things I still recognise. Why?’*

You sense her trepidation, unsure of how to answer. She begins, choosing her words carefully-

“Your memories are only triggered by these events as… They are ones your past self would recognise. Your body is unfamiliar because you were not always a Rune Knight.”

‘*....What?’*

And so Agatha regales you with every detail you might need, with everything she can remember of the olden days. She weaves the tale of an empire, of awe-inspiring technologies and Aether, of the Arcanists, hellbent on bettering the lives of their beloved people in every way, of the Transcension Experiments. A story of might and valour, and the tragedies that befell when they pushed too far.

“..You were human, before, and thus one of the few left untouched by the Calamity’s corruption.  The only way to bring you back was to construct a brand new form for you, and transfer your mind. However… Resources were scarce, and a lot of your past life was lost in the process. I’m sorry, Champion, you were the only hope I had.”

To say it was a lot to take in would be a dire understatement.

What hell were you, then? No past, no name, no real body; Just stuck in the middle of everything, on the brink of remembering the life you might’ve had while trapped within a nightmare.

You summon your weapons again, desperately clinging on to your last few threads of familiarity. Stars, what was even the point of this? Why did Agatha bother bringing you back to this cataclysm at all? Rokar was lost, hopelessly crushed, and what if there was truly no one else left? How were you to stop an entire *calamity* alone? *Why did she have to subject you to this*?

You try to make sense of this unforgiving, ridiculous world you’ve been thrust into, blades clutched in a white knuckled grip.

(You glance downwards at your hands, at metal shaded a clouded grey.)

Thoughts stray back to your stand against the Horror, towards another fall caused by hubris and lacking caution. Was their history doomed to repeat, again and again?

“No!”

Your gaze snaps upwards.

“Rokar isn’t done yet, it can’t be. We don’t know for certain if there’s no one else left, there very well may be fortresses and fighters still standing farther away from the Calamity’s heart. Find them, Champion, drive away the Unravelled, so we may one day restore our Empire to its former glory. We’ve made far too many mistakes, all we can do now is try to learn from them. I know it’s a monumental task, but *we have to do this. Please*, for Rokar.”

You try to ward away the sense of foreboding you feel at her tone. The edge of desperation in her voice doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, but….

...She wasn’t wrong. *You haven’t been broken until you give up;* It’s drilled into the minds and hearts of every Rokari, that much you remember. A second chance, a rare gift, one that might change things yet. A chance to learn a lesson. To change history, once more. So what if a few (*every single*) sacrifices must be made in the way?

And, well, it’s better than wallowing in despair.

You turn towards the portal. ‘*What do I have to do?’*

Relief; It crashes into you like a tidal wave. Your guide begins,

“These runestones-” Four stones of varying colours levitate over weathered pedestals- “Each lead to different locations within Rokar where a Horror has been spotted: The Shattered Woods, the Frontier, the Citadel, and the Void-Keep. Proceed with caution, Champion, these battlefields only become deadlier and deadlier. I would advise you to stray from the Void-Keep for now, it’s where the heart of the Calamity lies, and where the Unravelled are the strongest.”

You grab the runestone leading to the Shattered Woods, muscle memory compelling you to crush it down. The stone glows bright before dissolving into aetheric energy. The portal blazes to life before you, a furious whirlpool of lime green.

“Stay vigilant, Champion. I’ll be with you on your journey, and warn you of any immediate danger you may face as often as I can. Go and bring an end to the corruption. In the meanwhile, I will prepare and forge the finest weapons I can gather while awaiting your return.”

‘*Thank you, Agatha.’*

You stop right in front of the gateway, sizing it up one last time. Are you truly ready to face the Horror again?

Time to find out.

You walk forward, into adventure, into danger, perhaps into your demise.

*For Rokar*.