Crucible Aeternum

When he finally let himself be free of the mental shackles that addled him, Galeon felt peace. It let him experience the world around him through fresh eyes. Things he had seen before appeared new to him, coming in many different variations of colours and forms that he never knew they had. He lost himself in them, taking in the beauty that he never saw in them before.

The rocks that dominated the land, the Prisma that grew from them, they all looked less desolate and seemed something more. Not necessarily good, but still more. The rare tributaries that he found cutting across a large expanse of barren rocky deserts and the occasional plants that grew from them seemed more vibrant and impactful than before. He used to see them as fleeting glimpses of the old world, but now, they felt to him like a desperate resistance of an unrelenting will.

As he journeyed further onward, it became less about hurrying to stop a looming threat and became more about an experience. He was living a reality where survival was not guaranteed, where beauty would not always be preserved. This he knew for the longest time, but it was only now that he was actually feeling it, understanding it and... living it.

Was it helplessness that made him accept it? Perhaps, but also there was a learned patience, something he wanted to instill in himself more. All this time, he had been living life by counting the seconds that he had forgotten to look away from the clock, to see the world for what it was – a story to be told, a life to be lived, an experience to be shared.

He was not watching a recorded film on a big screen where he had to find the right time of day to fit a whole three hours of living vicariously through a script. It seemed that in his pursuit of Eternity, he had forgotten that it was not just others who had lives that he could witness. He himself had a life to live and a whole world to discover.

His heart trembled at the inexplicable sorrow that he felt. He pitied himself for being so blind all this time, and he felt guilty that he never thought such things clearly before. The world was not a playground nor a stage. It was a living being just like him and just like everyone else. It too must have a dream. It too must desire to live. It had taken him so long to notice, to hear its desperate cries for help. But what about others? Do they hear it, the dirge that rang solemnly in the wind?

The ground trembled and the sky reverberated as a sudden impact dragged Galeon out of his musings. The shockwave sent him careening off his trajectory slightly, disorienting him for a moment as he tried to stabilise himself. He could see the ground below begin cracking, spreading out like a living web that snaked across the barren land, seemingly following him. But it was not this that grabbed his attention. It was the metallic glint of a large sword stuck in the ground behind him.

Seeing the sword for only a brief instant, Galeon folded his wings around him, reinforcing his body even further with liquid light and crystal. He reacted almost instantly as there was no time for hesitation or thoughts, and his actions proved correct as he soon felt an even greater impact strike him from behind. It was as powerful as the force that the sword was shot with, but this was a direct hit. Fortunately, True Damage Resistance worked perfectly in tandem with Vibration to disperse most of the attack's power.

Galeon was thrown forward, crashing into the ground as he quickly gathered himself to make sure there were no more openings that the enemy could use against him. When his gaze finally landed on what was behind him, he found a man wearing a bulky full-plate armour. Other than his head, the rest of his body was hidden underneath a heap of sturdy metal. He raised his left hand and the large sword that was stuck in the ground a few hundred meters away suddenly flew toward him, settling into his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

In that brief encounter, Galeon knew that the man was powerful, more so than anyone he had ever met in Corrin. Even Shine with her destructive golden lightning and flames would not be able to match this man who seemed to wield a unique power of his own. And by the looks of him, he was a veteran of war, though his eyes currently held a silent and cold rage that could barely be contained. He was here for Galeon, that much was certain.

"I've never met you before, but you seem to have some grudge against me. Why don't you tell me your name before we continue."

The man only regarded his words with a light scoff before taking a step forward and shooting toward Galeon like a rocket. By all right and logic, with so much weight on him, he should not be moving any faster than the slowest car, and yet here he was. The man was like a veritable missile, quickly cutting the distance between the two of them by half in a single second.

"This is why I hate fighting. It makes you so dumb that you can't think of anything else. First Step: Origin."

The moment he took the First Step, Galeon was greeted with a sight that he had never seen before. All around him were strings that floated so naturally that they seemed more like the air he was breathing. They were ethereal, incorporeal as he passed through them without being able to touch them. They came in so many different colours, carrying so many different sensations that he could not believe he had not seen them all this time.

Before he even obtained the Vernal Bloom, before he even managed to cross the threshold and take the Third Step, Galeon had always been able to take the First Step. He had always been able to perceive everything around him with great clarity. But now, he was realising once more that he was only at the beginning of a long path. The Eyes of Clarity had given him such a gift, to see reality for what it was. These strings around him, these... threads, they carried such unique presences that could be barely encapsulated in words.

They were both natural and supernatural at the same time. They have always existed just that no one had ever noticed. They were threads that governed many things. They could be the way the wind blew or how fast a rock was weathered down into fine dust. Galeon could see them. He could read them, however superficial his understanding of them was. And it allowed him to understand more of what was happening around him.

He could read the trajectory of the armoured man. He could read the moment he would arrive before him. He could read how the ground shook and changed from every footfall that weighed like a hundred mountains. And he could read his emotions. There was rage and hatred, the ones that he could see through the man's eyes. And then there was something else. There was... grief.

Light flashed as Galeon swam along the ethereal threads, weaving out of the hulking man's attack and the consequent impact. The winds burst out as a cloud of dust hindered the vision, but Galeon remained unaffected. He did not need to see through the dust. He only needed to read the threads, and they told him something that felt confusing. There was more than one person present in his vicinity. He did not know whether it was an oriole, but Galeon could only raise his vigilance.

"If you don't intend to talk, then I suppose your grief will be buried with you, nameless knight."

It was not lost on Galeon that the enemy was a knight. Just the armour alone was a dead giveaway already. And although he was not certain, he had an idea as to who the man was. But with the emotion he was reading from him, Galeon did not want to think he was correct. Because if he was, he would not know what to do.

"Second Step: Transformation"

Galeon was not a knight and never will he be one. He knew no honour in battle than to use everything in one's arsenal. To do any less would be the greatest dishonour and stupidity. That was what he and Verglas never agreed on. And on this day, with his life on the line once more, he would fight with everything he had.

Tiny droplets of liquid light scattered all around the battlefield. They were so tiny that they could barely be seen amidst the dust and Prisma that scattered all around. Before the dust cloud could even settle, Galeon dashed forward, intent on striking the man while he was blind. Overhead, some of the liquid light had already moved into position, ready to unleash their power at any time. But just as Galeon had entered the dust cloud, he abruptly stopped, his momentum seemingly vanishing as his knees buckled in a moment of surprise. And then came deep and cold voice.

"Futile tricks."