Chương 3

Sylvaester Albion, Commander of the Kingdom's Eastern Forces, paused in his writing.

"Enter." His assistant Dauna Left walked into the room. The smartly dressed young woman bowed.

"There has been news from Peakhold." Sylvaester pushed back from the desk and spun to look at the map. He squinted as he looked at the small hold, the north-most of all those underneath his command, to which his son insisted on getting sent.

"How bad is it?"

"Just unusual. Apparently-" Dauna hesitated to check the written missive in her hands.

"Ahem. Apparently, he immediately passed out when he passed through the Rift. Upon waking up, he acted like he had lost his memories. So a rumor is spreading that he has… re-awakened. Naturally." For a second, Sylvaester was still. Then he threw his head back and guffawed.

"After experiencing a successful awakening ritual, with inordinately expensive and complimentary catalytics, and then to have such a pathetic showing as a Spark Mage-- suddenly, he claims to have Awakened again? Like this was the early days of the Incursion? Hah!" Gradually, his mirth died down. Still with a smile on his face, Sylaester said.

"What, are we supposed to believe he's doubly as powerful now, with two Awakenings? Or that he has two Archetypes? Ha, our youngest always…"

"I did some research, before bringing the news," Dauna said. She pulled out another scroll and offered it to Sylvaester.

"Technically, it is possible. In the one hundred and nineteen years since the Awakening Ritual has been finalized, there have been two cases of a secondary Awakening. Several other suspected cases, but because of the loss of consciousness and most people are secretive about their Archetypes, it's difficult to confirm."

"And? What happens to those who receive this rare privilege?" Sylvaester felt a flicker of curiosity.

"An altered Archetype. Some positively, some negatively." Sylvaester grunted and returned to the paperwork in front of him.

"Well, it matters not. A scion of one of the four great families becoming a Conduit would have drawn attention. The method is novel, but this is just Kirkland's method of controlling the narrative." Sylvaester dipped his quill in ink and continued to write.

"Let him have his fun. In six months, if he continues to mess around, we will correct his behavior."

Kirk crouched in his tent, wrapped in a blanket. Night had fallen and the blanket was very warm. One thing was clear- the previous him had high-quality taste. After a bit of digging, he had found matches and lit the lamp. Unfortunately, what he had packed where was part of his lost memories. However, he did have the pamphlet of recommendations, provided by the Administrator. So now he poured over the documentation, trying to understand his situation. He began by listing out things that he knew.

His name was Kirk Albion. People gave him strange looks. He was in his tent, which was within the camp of Peakhold. He was a Conduit, which meant he had an archetype. He even had two Archetypes. And probably related was the fact he had lost his memory. Across the ridge from Peakhold was the towering Rift. Filled with valuable resources, the dangerous pollution of an alien world, and dangerous geos. The Rift had geo-3s and geo-4s. The administrator had gotten weird when he asked about geo-1s and geo-2s.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Most of the population of Peakhold were Conduits, fighting against the geos. Kirk's expression darkened. Probably, the wounded I saw- that was from geos. Even now, thinking about the weeping woman made Kirk's mouth compress into a thin line. He knew he wanted to put a stop to things like that. He wanted those moments of suffering to never happen. He wanted the world to be more fair.

But what was he going to do about it? That's where the documentation came in. Kirk lifted up the scrolls in front of him and studied them more closely. According to these, he had become an independent Conduit, Tier 0. Tier 0 Conduits could, once a week, proceed through designated checkpoints beyond the veil. If Kirk went beyond the veil, he could fight against geos, described by the documents as instinctively violent, and nip this issue in the bud.

Yet despite of his unfamiliarity with his circumstances, an issue immediately popped to mind. Kirk tilted his head to the side.

"Can I fight against geos?" His mind remained inert. He cleared his throat and tried a different tactic.

"Can a Tier 0 Conduit fight against geos?" Thoughts flitted into his mind. With proper equipment for their Archetype, to take advantage of their Titles, Runes, and Manifestations, a Tier 0 Conduit could fight geo-3s. Geo-4s, however, would toy with him when bored and devour him when hungry. Sighing, Kirk continued searching his tent. He found a trunk of clothes that he tried on for a while, before he grew disinterested; old Kirk wore brightly patterned shirts and uncomfortably tight black pants.

Better to just remain in his cotton undershirt and leather armor. He found a heavy tome, which detailed a method of 'cultivating' fire. He mouthed out the syllables-- this seemed doable. The term cultivating he recognized from the info offered by the brass band on his arm. It was an Ascension requirement. Kirk felt the presence of the Beast again, purring in pleasure. The path to the power he wished gradually drifted into view.

He might not know who he was, but at least he had a path forward- Thinking about Ascension caused his uncooperative mind to shift in an unexpected direction. Frowning, Kirk looked again at the materials provided by the so-called 'Maester Council', which confirmed a complication. While Ascension had a strict process, that was not all that was required. You also needed to have Feats- another term referred to vaguely in the documentation- equal to double the Tier you were ascending to.

So in addition to the Cultivating Fire, he needed two Feats to grow his Archetype to the next Tier.

"How do I earn Feats?" Kirk muttered. The world didn't answer. Kirk rubbed the bridge of his nose. For now, he set the Ascension issue aside. To perform the cultivating method, he also needed treasure materials from the wilderness. He shifted the stuff in his leather packs, feeling each item with his hands. He found small tinctures with inscrutable symbols as labels. He checked under the table, but just found wine bottles. He upended a sack and found small, geometric puzzles made of gold, silver, and bronze.

Kirk fiddled with them for a while, oddly soothed by the movement. His fingers almost seemed to remember them, solving them in only ten or so seconds.

"Okay," Kirk looked outside then settled down for sleep.

"I have armor. This body remembers how to put it on. Tomorrow, I can secure provisions, then find out what was beyond the veil." Dawn brought winds, which pressed lightly against his tent and woke Kirk. He sat up and yawned. His hands moved almost automatically, rolling up his bedding, attaching it to his pack, and strapping on the armor. His eyebrows rose- these remnants from his past self were almost useful.

When he proceeded outside, Kirk observed that most Conduits were heading in a certain direction, so he followed. Along the way, several individuals offered to fill water skins and provided pre-packed food to these brave Conduits. When Kirk approached and asked, the people flinched, showered him with compliments, and requested money. And while Kirk blinked, his hands didn't. They flicked to a small bag at the bottom of the pack and removed a few silver coins.

Supplied and more confident, Kirk moved to the gateway at the edge of the hold. Beyond was the bare dirt track, that he walked as the first rays of dawn stretched across the ridge. Only about ten minutes away, he reached the opposite camp. The guard asked.

"Heading to the Rift?"

"Yes," Kirk said. The guard's expression changed to one of worry.

"Alone? Are you not part of a Troop? If you wish, I can introduce you-"""That's Kirkland Albion," The other guard cleared his throat. He offered Kirk a fake smile.

"Ahem. Obviously, Young Master Albion has made arrangements." That guard flushed, even as the other Conduits waiting in line began to whisper and give Kirk strange looks.

"Oh. Oh! S-sorry Mister Albion. Go on through." Kirk frowned, but proceeded forward. The whole crowd behind him rustled like reeds in the wind. His skin prickled; his Enhanced Senses made him very aware of all the eyes on his back. He ignored them as best he could and proceeded forward. Without hesitating, he reached out and touched the edge of the Rift. The surface shimmered, a pond disturbed by a stone. He vanished, entering the alien world.