"A creation from the depths."
"Eyes that pry from hidden corners."
"A mirror of guidance and revelation."
"Arrodes!"
Eli Walker stood in the cold, silent ocean. With graceful fingers and ancient syllables, he called into the abyss using fluent Elvish. The words were ceremonial, improvised, yet they held the resonance of power—crafted titles designed to beckon a sentient being bound to mystery and revelation.
The being he sought: the magic mirror Arrodes.
To improve his odds, Eli used his spiritual power to shape the seawater into a crude but deliberate form of a mirror. Black gemstones, formed from condensed minerals in the water, sat on each side—"eyes" to anchor awareness. It wasn't just summoning—it was a signal, a ritual, a pact-in-the-making.
Reckless? Yes. But in the Cataclysmic Era, caution was the quickest path to death.
A pale light shimmered in the dark waters.
The mirror's surface rippled, then stilled. Elvish runes, silver and refined, appeared across it.
"Elf... are you calling me?"
Eli gave a small nod.
"I am. I've answered your question. Now it's your turn."
The mirror paused. It sensed something unusual—the faint gray mist clinging to Eli, both shielding and veiling him. Slowly, the runes reappeared.
"You may ask."
With a half-smile, Eli summoned a wraith—one of the lesser undead he'd trapped in a water curtain—and floated it before the mirror.
"I'll let this one observe our contract," he said casually. "My identity's... complicated. I could use a companion. Want to play a while?"
Ripples widened across the mirror's surface as if surprised.
"Of course… I can.
I am… honored."
Eli blinked. Was this really that easy?
The mirror shimmered like an excited pet finally given attention. It was warm, anxious, and—oddly—happy.
He tapped the edge of the water mirror. "Then it's your turn to ask."
After a brief silence, glowing runes formed again:
"Arrodes… is that the name you gave me?"
Eli froze.
Oh no. That stuck? I was joking.
He shook his head slightly, bemused.
"You didn't already have a name?"
"No. I've only just awakened. Before this, I drifted... unaware."
The reply came as a direct spiritual resonance—no language barrier. Arrodes was young. Naïve. But honest.
It only gained sentience recently? That actually works in my favor.
"Do you like the name?"
"Very much. It suits me well."
"May I call you by your name, too?"
"Eli Walker," he said with a gentle smile. "You can call me that. I'm happy to be your friend. And I'll need your help—probably more than you know."
The mirror glowed brighter, almost pulsing with joy.
"I will, Eli Walker.
I am glad.
I will do everything I can to help you."
Its surface danced with silver ripples—excitement it couldn't contain. It wasn't just a tool. It was a lonely entity that had just been invited in.
"What do you need me to do?
I can find Beyonder characteristics.
I can warn you of danger.
Eli Walker, something powerful is approaching. You must head west—there, it is safer."
Even before Eli asked, Arrodes lit up a mini-map, projecting outlines of the nearby ocean. Large swaths of darkness were lifted. Hostile creatures blinked red on the border.
Eli laughed softly.
"I trust you, Arrodes."
This wasn't just a cheat. It was a sentient ally, unbound by exchange rules—at least for now.
So early-stage Arrodes doesn't demand a question in return? It hasn't developed that logic yet… Perfect.
He followed the path lit up on the map, diving deeper into the cold sea. As he passed red-marked undead, he summoned currents to cleave through them.
"Arrodes," he called mid-motion.
"I'm here!"
Instant reply. Constant attention. Loyal.
"There are many beings in this world who see through fate and spirit," Eli said. "They might ignore a remote elf, but I need to ask—do you have any ability related to secrecy?"
"If not, I'll need to quickly advance to Cataclysmic Interrer—Sequence 4 of the Storm Pathway. At least as a demigod, I'd gain some concealment."
Eli's tone was casual, but the choice was strategic. Rushing to demigod level wasn't ideal, but if Arrodes couldn't protect him, then raw strength was the only insurance.
"Eli Walker," Arrodes replied firmly.
"The gray mist surrounding you is secret enough.
If you hadn't summoned me, I wouldn't have sensed your presence at all."
Eli paused, looking down. The mist curled faintly around his skin—subtle, ethereal, protective.
Sefirah Castle? Still trying to fix its mistake? Still reaching for a new host?
He chuckled under his breath.
"I guess even fate has regrets."