The halls of the Aether Conservatory buzzed with energy—arcane engines hummed behind stone walls, quills whispered across parchment, and illusionary diagrams spun in midair.
Faydric Tomaix.
He wasn't much to look at—lanky, too young, hands perpetually ink-stained. But when he spoke, professors listened. Students older than him turned pages in silence. Beneath one margin, he had scribbled Axiom-driven constructs, noting "require no handler, only clarity of thought."
But then came the shaking hands. Equations that once flowed like music now faltered on the page. Faydric said little—only that it was “temporary.”
“Your neural lattice is unraveling,” the mage murmured. “You have… months, maybe a few years of lucidity. I’m sorry.”
Inside the old observatory dome, the prodigy labored in secret. Schematics filled the walls—runes layered over mechanical joints and the rarely taught principle of Mody-Constructae.
He named it Project Cognis.
"Cognition is continuity. If the mind persists, then so do I."
In the wilds beyond the city-states, rumors whisper of a cloaked figure of brass and blue fire. Travelers claim it is a living Artifact, shaped not by hands, but by will—a relic with purpose.
He does not sleep. He does not forget.
“Am I Faydric, or the echo of his ambition?”← Return to Archive