"And that will still not be enough. No, you need true protection." Argon tapped the black, sleek table. Glass-like. And suddenly, a silence waved out. Ivory felt it like a bubble. A layer of isolation keeping within truly within.
More forms of the Dampening hand. Ivory thought, What would they call this? The dampening tap?
Argon continued. "Very few have the strength to do this." He tapped again, and a square, thin wall rose from the table. It was small, barely three inches. A colosseum for the bug battle.
He emptied the box, and Ivory saw the bug drop in. She did the same and looked to him. "This is a different method from the normal game."
"Yes," Argon confirmed, "The clan's castWarers created a useful tool for me. It does not have a name yet."
"Hmm."
Argon perhaps sensed the hidden insistence for elaboration. He said, "Directly probing the bugs leads to injuries on their part. That's not very good, as my prized ones often die. This creates a bridge." He raised the needle and a blue queer form appeared before him, rooted on the sleek table.
Ivory observed this and grew an analytical awareness. She raised hers, and in sameness, a blue transparent form appeared—bulk-backed, six-legged. The bug. "So we prob them here and the bug feels it."
"Clever," Argon said simply.
"But then, how do we see within the box?" She passed her gaze to the many-inch-tall square box. Not that all, perhaps; however, the distance made internal observation a hard thing.
"A view wall." Argon tapped again, and a square screen lined up on the table.
I see. So the entire table is a single castWare with many functions.
"Let's begin."
Ivory tapped the head of the blue projection and saw through the view wall formed by her side, pressed into the table. On it, her bug stirred, moving. It was a strange dance to see—though she knew that was forbidden. The bug in all its lowered cogitation recognized itself under threat, by whom, though, that was the misconception. It widened its pincers, raised the front legs—a wobbling motion of back and forth.
She would wonder on the nature of this dance—of what sequential event, predator or not, had formed it. The closest explanation would be of some predator which the bug fought for control over the eltium.
Humans themselves have only discovered the material in smaller time compared to how long it has existed. The four kings specifically were the founders of it. Other than that, Ivory's knowledge halted there.
She saw then Argon's bug moving closer to hers. This was the game. First to meet the enemy. First to be caught by those pincers. These were blind animals, she was to become their eyes for them to live.
One day, I will have to be the eyes of the entire clan. Ivory regarded Argon and drew understanding that his game deception was soon to begin.
"What do you think of clan Grey?" He said.
Ivory chose to entertain it. "The clan of the steel strong."
"I think it's strong steel." Argon said, "What a pompous lot they all are. They have more names than we do."
"And they are our vassals."
"And they are our Vassals." Argon poked, and his bug shot forward, pincer wide and ready to snap.
Ivory, memory engrained in this tactic, stuck the bug by the side, and fearing an attack, it moved to the side. Evading the sure strike.
"Ah, daughter!" Argon laughed. "Good good."
What is awareness? An interesting question. But I must tell you there is no means to ever prove it. For to do so creates the potentiality of a forged outcome or one detailed to become so. To prove one's awareness is only ever to be a self-experiment—Author unknown. The recovered journal believed to stem from the third age.
Ivory watched the end and knew herself the loser. From the projected view of the view wall, she saw her bug, dead, cut in two. A powerful pincer attack to the side. Argon proved mighty today—as he always was. Ivory might relish in telling him victory came at allowance, but the reality was different.
He was better. Plain and simple.
She placed down the needle and looked at him. "Your decision."
Argon's smile faded. "Hmm. You will be trained by Nail."
"What?"
"Not as a blademaster, but in simple strength and skill. And she, too, will be your guard. That is that." There was finality there. "Leave now."
No way for negotiation. Ivory stood up and bowed. Irritation in the outcome remained; she was human, but she, too, admired the strength. The final say on it.
Taking some steps back, she turned and walked towards the outdoor. Again, she passed by Taka, the large statue of the saint holding his wheel.
Dream shaped by a dreamShaper.
Now she walked the same corridor of dark stone. A sense of timelessness overwhelmed her. No, that wasn't it. Ivory felt in those moments a knowing of running time. Soon, Nail would find her, and the training would begin.
Regardless of the excuses presented, all would think I'm training to become a blademaster. Ivory thought, grim-filled. Mother would say, allow the beasts to think what they want, but in these delicate times, beasts often become a stampede. And that becomes a revolution. I don't need a revolution.
Revolution must be avoided. She felt a sigh and bridled it. What must I do now? I have to go to the lab. Working clears my mind. But…Ivory felt a pull towards a needed conversation.
Curiosity beckoned to this thing. That Kabel was a strange fellow. She had been wanting to ask him, but Mother's words—father's call. Those things became a distraction. Ivory needed to know.
Why was he so in-depth in this false role he plays? A spy has no need to pet. He is to gather information. Why then most he stick to the self of an Aspirant, and then some?
Ivory felt the pooling of processional bits. Questions. Questions. Her mind desired answers. She had never been good at quelling that addiction.
Where would he be now? She pondered and lifted her eyes to an Eiya conveniently placed. She did, of course. The orb of floating white light pulsed—in a way that seemed bratty. Like a child annoyed at attention deprivation. She felt it. This was a thing granted by the bond between her and it. At some distance, she felt it as a separate, weaker awareness within her cognitive whole.
She caressed this feeling—a gentle echo of a call. And the orb listened. It floated down, buzzing light inches from her face.
Can I call him? She wondered. If he had an Eiya bonded to him, doing so would require but a simple command. But did he? As one from the Absentation branch, it begs the question, does having an Eiya admit to some desire or urge pleasing?
Ivory wondered this and, before long, realized the dull brain by which she moved. Many moments had passed, and now she stood before a chamber. Here, symmetry lived.
It was a room of black stone, as all of cintry is. But here, light came not from the base but instead knifed down from a slit in the high roof—casting calm radiance over the sleek mirror like floor. Rolling from her were steps, stone steps falling into the vastness of the chamber.
In the center of the chamber, a single desk—stone-made, inlaid with iron. Around it was a half-spherical chair, obvious in the manner it suggested for group seating.
Often, I think we are getting too similar to the house of noctis. Ivory half-awed at the style her clan now adopted.
She stepped in, astonished at how alien this chamber was to her. But this was the nature of the castle. Always growing. Always building.
Just then, she saw, seated on the left edge of the spherical seat, a man, white robed, holding a book. Kabel.
"At this point, I think you stalk me." She said.
"Nonsense," Kabel looked up, an addition to his far awareness of her presence. "Why would I stalk you? I reckon many already do that."
"Is that some confession to what you might be?"
He raised his hands. "Allegations without proof. Your interest, your grace, is a curious thing."
"My interests are mine to indulge, not for you to ponder."
"Ah."
Ivory drew closer and saw clearly the smile he wore—so genuine, they seemed. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I was walking and thinking about how I could make the doll princess smile. And I found this place. Being an Aspirant has its perks, no one asks me anything. So I found here, saw its silence and sat to think."
"Company?"
Kabel grew a corner smile. "Oh my, the princess wants my company? Oh, almighty above, I must be blessed."
"Do not misinterpret. I'm offering my presence, not giving it."
"Same thing."
"It's not."
"It is."
"It's not."
Silence.
Kabel closed the book and leaned close. "You are a hard thing to crack, your grace."
"Nothing less for the one to become highness."
"If, you mean."