Chapter Text
My role has always been one of the thinker, at least thats what my father always said. I was never the strongest or most agile of people, still, to this day. Nor the smartest, I suppose, not on par the the great Sharlayan minds I often find myself conferring to with theories and stratagems.
I am... something of a vulture, I suppose, taking knowledge from those long dead, taking up their power as my own. Even father left me his grimoire and journals, which won my way into the Arcanist guild. I learned, no doubt, eager to take up any morsel, but my Aether was insufficient compared to my peers. I couldn't manage much besides a carbuncle familiar and a few minor formulae.
I learned enough from my studies to help augment my deficiencies, my aetheric tattoos I had picked up from some of my courses on Histories from the War of the Magi, which had been in turn taken from as far back as ancient Alleg. My instructors had praised my initiative, but followed with many lectures about not consulting them with my theories, if I had not completed them properly, it would have spelled disastor for my aetheric flow, upset the balance and likely causing myself serious disease, or cutting off my access to Aether altogether.
I hadn't thought of that. A problem begat a solution, and I chased it.
I hated that my father had gone off to die to save the world. I hated that I wasn't useful to my mother, my city-state, that I was just another person living a simple life. This was the problem I percieved.
I chased my solutions. Gage acquisitions, through them, Aeryn Striker, bringing me to get my hands on the aspected crystals from the slain Primals, which brought me to the Sons of Saint Coinach, to their work on Alleg, to summoners, summoning, the practices of aether aspected robes and summoning horns, the Egi.
All this brought me power, power I needed to be useful, to make a difference, to fight back against those that tried to bring things like Carteneau to our shores again, our Star. I learned about the Alleg empire, dredged up ancient technologies they brought to bear, and their unique brand of magic. Gage gave me a lab, and an introduction to the Scions.
I fought beside them, traveled the world, defeated Primals of my own, studied the remains. It felt like the only limitation I had now was my own imagination, always a way around a problem. Always a problem, always a solution.
And every tome I read, ever bit of knowledge I gleaned from the past, came with warnings. You could see it at every step in history, the costs of magic, of pushing boundaries, of interrupting the flow and balance. The hubris, the great falls that followed, the calamities. All engineered by an unseen foe we were beginning to understand.
Returning from the First was one of my greatest accomplishments, locking minds with the likes of Urianger, Y'shtola, G'raha... helping get us home.
I missed the cost, it was hidden from me. A shift in my Aether, i had interpreted it as compensation for the Light that had been so prevalent on the First, a small shift towards darkness. I now know this was not the case, it was me, drawing on my magics, pulling aether from the crystals I forged or collected.
There is always a cost.
I could not have prepared for it, not really. A subconscious summoning, drawing power from a combination of concentrated aether. I had drawn too much around me. That was my failing.
In traditional summoning, crystals are used as condensed aether, to be consumed to summon a being of sufficient power.
I had never expected that -I-, by surrounding myself with so many external sources of aether, would be a sufficient source of condensed aether.
It was on the First, at the very end, when I was almost consumed. That I had been desperate enough to call. A prayer to save myself. To save myself from the Light. It was just enough to hold it back, apparently. I should have been lost to such a barrage of Light.
Death.
My father, who started me on this journey.
The Mages of the past who showed me a path to Power
The ancient, destroyed Empire that almost dominated the world with their power, that I emulated to gain even more.
Those I lost along the way, whose dreams I carried with me.
What I had imagined was coming for me during my moment of desperation.
That was the Primal. My Primal, linked to me, too weak to break through the font of Light I was facing, but strong enough to save me. I had saved myself from tempering.
But it was inside me, growing, festering, growing stronger. And I had no idea. Were it not for Krylle's assistance, I likely never would know... I suppose I was fortunate to have collapsed to the growing aetheric imbalance.
And so we tried to summon.... me.
It worked. The summoning spent its power considerably, but its hunger was great, I could control it, but only just so. We... tested some theories, tried to drain it so I could assert a level of control... but it needed aether, and the solution was quenching it. No shortage of monsters in Mar Dhona, and the quickened aether from... living beings, quelled the hunger. I was able to unsummon my Primal, not unlike the process of commanding an Egi. The difference being... it went to back to me, not a crystal.
I've had to summon it 2 more times since then. I asked Krylle to... not tell anyone. She wasn't happy about that, but.... I didn't want them to look at me with suspicion. I had a solution to my problem, after all, no one had to know.
This... this was my cost.
There is always a cost.
I hope it was worth it.... being able to make a difference.