"You have died, Severus. But not completely," Ashem said, his voice resonating through the space. "I have taken enough of you with me, a silhouette, a last spark that has not been resolved."
He took the splinter in his hand and breathed words into it. "Rise again, not as the one you were, but as the one they could not fully extinguish."
The domain shook. It was a tremor that started at the tips of the floating staircases and rippled through the very essence of the place, like a drop of ink in a still pond.
The splinter in Ashem's hand pulsed, and from its dark core, a tendril of shadow reached out. It grew, coiling and stretching, until it was a rope of pure doubt that connected Ashem to the fragment of Severus that remained.
The shadows coalesced, shaping themselves into a figure that was both familiar and foreign. Severus's eyes, the deep, haunting gray, snapped open, and he gasped, feeling the unreality of Ashem's domain cling to him like a second skin.
"Welcome back," Ashem said, a twisted smile playing across his features.
Severus stood, his body feeling alien and yet eerily familiar. He looked down to find himself draped in a cloak of shadow, the material shifting and pulsing with an unsettling life of its own. The darkness clung to him like a second skin.
"Did I really die?" He asked, his voice a rasp.
"You did," Ashem said, his smile never faltering. "But your doubt, your essence of doubt, it survived. The moment you doubted yourself, doubted your odds against a powerful opponent like Baleron, that was the moment I was able to step in and bring a part of it here."
"You are the proof, that even what has been deleted continues to have an effect. And that's enough." He added. "But for now, you should hide. It may have been unnoticed, but it won't last long. Baleron is far too clever for that, it's only a matter of time before he realizes you're still there."
Severus nodded, the gravity of his situation weighing heavily on him. "I understand... so what do you want me to do?"
"Choose," Ashem said, his eyes gleaming. "Choose a new name, a new story, a new identity to wear as a mask in the world of the Auditors. For outside these shadows, you are no longer Severus Ezren. That name has been erased from the annals of existence."
"The only part of your true existence that bears the name Severus Ezren is here, and it shall remain so. Away from the Auditors, and safely under my watch." He added as his gaze lingered on the splinter on his hand that symbolized this part.
Severus took a deep breath, the gravity of his loss weighing on him. "But I have one question before I decide," he murmured.
"Ask," Ashem said, his voice a whisper in the silence.
Severus's thoughts swirled like the shadows around them. "Can this new identity..." he paused, "Can it take me over completely? Could this identity overwrite my existence so thoroughly that even I won't remember who I was?"
Ashem's smile slowly disappeared. "The mind is a complex tapestry. If a string is pulled out, it can be woven back in, but the pattern changes. You would still be you, but viewed through a different lens. Your memories, your experiences, they are all colored by the identity you choose."
"But don't worry," he added curtly. "I won't allow it to get that far. As long as the true part of you remains close to me, I'll make sure it prevails."
Severus felt a pang of doubt, his heart racing as the shadow cloak around him seemed to tighten. "And if it doesn't?"
"Then we deal with that when it comes," Ashem said, his tone unyielding. "But for now, you need to choose."
Severus looked around, the alien landscape of Ashem's domain swirling around him. He felt a sense of detachment, as if he were floating in a sea of forgotten stories.
He thought about the name he'd had, Severus Ezren, and the life that had come with it. A life of doubt and skepticism, a life that had led him to this place.
With a nod that felt heavier than his own fate, Severus said, "I will do it. Until I reach the Library of Untruth. After that, I will take back my name and my true self."
Ashem's smile grew, the red in his eyes flaring like embers. "Good," he whispered, "your new identity doesn't have to be complex, it's only meant to serve as a cover. So keep it simple."
Severus's thoughts raced, searching for something that resonated with his purpose, something that could shield him from the Chancellery of Truth's all-seeing gaze.
"How about 'Fable'?" Severus murmured, the name rolling off his tongue like a whisper. It was a name that spoke of untruths and fabrications.
Ashem's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. "Fable," he repeated, his voice echoing through the domain. "It's a clever choice, fitting for one who seeks to hide in plain sight."
With a wave of his hand, the shadows around them grew denser, coalescing into a whirlwind that enveloped Severus. He felt the fabric of his being shift, the weight of his name changing. When the shadows retreated, Severus looked down at his hands. They were no longer his own; they were the hands of Fable, a character in a story of deceit and intrigue.
"Remember, Fable," Ashem warned, his voice low and intense, "every time you reveal your true name, every time you let slip who you truly are, you risk rewriting the narrative that has been so painstakingly erased."
He nodded, the gravity of his situation sinking in. He was no longer Severus Ezren, the cynical skeptic who had defied the Auditors. He was now a character in a story of his own making, a mask to hide behind.
"I understand," Fable said, the words feeling strange in his mouth. "I'll be careful."
Ashem nodded, the shadows of his domain swirling around him. "Good. Now, I need you to trust me. I will guide you back to the mortal plane, but it won't be easy."
The world around them grew hazier, the lines between shadow and light blurring into a sea of indecision. Fable felt a tugging sensation in his chest, as if the very essence of who he had been was fighting against the new narrative being woven around him.
"Concentrate," Ashem instructed, his voice a soothing balm against the rising panic. "Your mind is a fortress, let the story of 'Fable' become its foundation."
Fable closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of ink and parchment grew faint, replaced by the smells of a tavern, the sour tang of spilled ale, the warmth of roasting meats, and the faint sweetness of pipe smoke. He could almost hear the murmur of conversations and the clank of tankards. The cobblestone streets of his imagination stretched out before him, the fog of a forgotten past curling around the edges of his mind.
When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in the damp, dimly lit alleyway in the middle of Kaldris and the rain pattered against the cobblestones, echoing off the buildings.
"It really worked," he murmured to himself. „But what now? I can't just walk back into my old home... After all, I don't... Severus Ezren doesn't exist anymore." His thoughts raced, searching for a solution.
....