The Aetherway
Artifact
A faint light emerges from the cave’s dark tunnel.
The cave was damp and still. Long stalactites hung from the ceiling, and somewhere deeper within, water dripped at an unhurried, steady pace.
Fire steps into the wide chamber, his red skin glowing faintly in the wavering light of the torch he carries. His long black hair drapes over his shoulders, damp with cave-mist, and his pointed tail curves behind him like a drawn line of shadow.
An egg large enough to hold a person rests in the far corner.
He closes his eyes gently and exhales.
The torch is set against the wall.
Slow and quiet, he walks toward the egg and sits beside it.
His hands slide across its surface. It is cold to the touch, colder than the surrounding stone, and thick beneath his palm. He leans in and presses his forehead against the shell, letting his warmth seep into it.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he murmurs.
He hesitates. His breath catches.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you this, waiting for a right moment. But… with you, I don’t think there has ever been such a moment.”
He reaches into his bag and lifts a small object, rolling it thoughtfully between his fingers.
“Remember when we found this?”
“You insisted that I should keep it.”
“Even though it wasn’t my birthday.”
Small. Rectangular. Transparent.
A tiny label, handwritten in an unknown script sits in the center.
“An out-of-place artifact…”
“That’s what they say.”
“Perhaps from another world?”
Inside, the black stripe tightens into two spirals, connected at the middle, each turning inward in its own direction.
“We don’t really know what it is, but… the feeling I get from this…”
“I think it contains a message. Maybe.”
“It should go like this…”
Fire turns it slowly, catching the flickering light.
“I’ve been secretly probing you,”
“Trying to find answers you wouldn’t give.”
His fingers tighten around the small object.
“I kept pushing, watching how you reacted.”
A faint pause.
“I… I have to admit that sometimes I acted out of hurt. I feel bad about it.”
“I don’t know if you’d ever forgive me, but I needed to say it.”
His fingers tighten around the little object.
“Once…” He swallows and looks down.
“You said you are fearless…”
“But that isn’t it."
“You’ve just learned to endure it without breaking.”
He pauses. Tiny white dots bloom at his pores. They drift and merge into pale patches.
“You said nothing scared you, and I swore I’d prove you wrong…”
“But instead, I became the very thing you were afraid of.”
“The one thing you keep running from.”
The spots swell, their edges soft and hazy. They drift closer as if pulled by an inner warmth, until they meet and quietly fuse, their merged surface faintly gleaming.
He exhales.
“I was trying to spark the dreamer inside you.”
“Let your light reach others.”
He lets the words settle.
“I just didn’t want to hold the thread alone.”
The softened patches widen. Spreading across his shoulders, chest, and hands.
“Something strange happened…”
“I’ve met others… like you.”
“Weird coincidences.”
“And somehow… I was able to piece everything together.”
A droplet strikes the stone. It spreads, cools, and settles into a small dull mark. Fire watches.
“When I first saw you like this… I was really confused.”
“But now… I understand.”
“I just… feel hollow.”
The spots grow larger, thickening. A faint mist rises from them like steam.
He touches one, and it gives way beneath his fingers, leaving pale, hazy streaks across his palm.
“I suppose… I’ve always been one of you, in the end.”
“I didn’t see that coming… did you?”
The waxy spots begin to stiffen, their surfaces losing softness as they cool. A thin, brittle shell forms over each patch, spreading in quiet cracks and ridges. As more of them harden, his movements grow slower, each layer heavier, subtly holding him back.
“So…”
“Thank you.”
“Truly.”
He falls quiet.
For a moment, he thinks he feels something beneath his forehead. A faint shift. A subtle change in pressure.
He stills.
Waits.
Nothing follows.
He lets out a small breath through his nose.
“Probably just my imagination.”
He pauses, searching for the right words.
“You looked like someone who’d gotten used to being misunderstood.”
“Walking away just felt cruel.”
As he shifts his weight, the hardened shell responds with small, brittle sounds. Thin fragments loosen at the joints and edges, flaking away in pale shards. Each movement sends a few more pieces dropping to the ground, clicking softly as they scatter and break apart.
“I put so much effort into it…”
“More than I should have, probably.”
A dry laugh escapes him.
“Stretched myself too thin.”
He pauses, feeling the brittle shell crack at his elbow as he reaches toward his bag. For a moment he just holds it, breathing through the faint steam still rising from his skin.
“Maybe… it’s not my thread anymore,” he murmurs, fingers brushing over the worn fabric.
He reaches inside and pulls something out, offering it forward as hardened flakes drift softly from his arm.
“I want you to have this.”
He takes a small, polished mirror.
Carefully, he leans in and sets the mirror gently against the egg’s shell.
“I hope it helps you the way it helped me,” he says softly.
“When you’re ready.”
He pauses, glancing at the mirror.
“I’m going to need it back, though.”
“To build… what I’m trying to build.”
His gaze shifts to the small transparent artifact. His fingers hover above it, reverent, before he presses it gently against his chest.
“This… I’m taking with me. I’m going to need it too.”
He draws a slow breath. The shell around him tightens faintly, a thin crack tracing along his shoulder before sealing again.
“I wonder… what made you pull that thread.” He breathes out softly, a faint, easy smile warming his expression.
“Funny enough… it was because of it that I stopped hiding so much.”
“Oh, by the way…”
“That other thing I gave you, back then? It is a spell.”
A grin spreads across his face, wide and bright, despite the hardening shell creeping along his jaw.
“It means…”
A soft chuckle escapes him, muffled by the growing shell.
“△scend.”
The word lingers in the chamber, echoing once against the wet stone.
Fire’s entire body had become encased in the candle-like shell.
His own egg formed beside the other.
