Kieran had so many questions for Scar that he asked individually, as expected. But a lot of the posed questions couldn't be answered. Apparently, they would spoil the meaning of the Trial of Inheritors.
It was designed explicitly to impart information, and Scar didn't wish to pervert or intrude upon the sanctity of the Trial of Inheritor's traditions. Though, the traditions were more set by Oaths and not traditions.
So, rules were the more fitting term.
Still, Kieran was more knowledgeable now than he had been minutes before. As Agatha had said, the Vain did exist. They were those that "succeeded" but abandoned. However, Scar clued Kieran in on an integral piece of information.
Vains only encompassed part of the picture of failed Myths. It consisted of two equal halves, though the number difference between them was incomparably vast. Of the two, the Vain were viewed as having a more tragic fate.
The second — the Broken — possessed comparatively milder fates. At least they were no longer privy to presence or influence.
'I would rather not know that I was broken than to remember losing it all. The misery in that had to be god awful.'
No, Kieran knew of this fate. He had endured it once. He remembered his sickness had taken everything from him and was even beginning to take most of his mind.
'I do… remember, right?'
The pain of remembering fallen glory made it all unbearably bleak.
The Vain renounced their Oath by choice or tarnished it and were severed as a consequence — their punishment to bear.
The Broken… were failures before the fact. Some vital part of them broke along the way, inviting unguided misery and heedless peril into their lives.
'The more you learn… the stranger it all gets. It's so bizarre.'
Then, Kieran had another thought.
Could a Myth… False Myths — as Scar resentfully called the letdowns — become both Broken and Vain? What did "failing" the Trial of Inheritors truly mean?
From the way Scar spoke about it and Agatha spurned it, the whole ordeal left him wondering.
Kieran waded through the sea of questions suffusing his mind and clogging his typically quick reasoning. Soon, he happened upon a line of questioning he believed could not be rejected for infringing upon the Trial's restrictions.
He looked to Scar for the answers.
"Scar… is it possible for a Broken and Vain to appear in the same person?"
Scar and Agatha were similarly floored by the question. They wore bewildered expressions, a sign that neither could give a definitive answer. Scar attempted his best, though.
"If they are Broken for a small reason, then it might be possible. I've never seen or heard it happen personally. But considering that the two things are not the same… I'd vote yes."
Agatha, on the contrary, had taken a deeper route.
The brilliant Supreme Ciphers coalesced around her hands, wrists, and forearms instantly, their prismatic magnificence shimmering with mystical allure. It was bewitching, but Agatha was focused on something else.
Her finger became a paintbrush, leaving lasting strokes upon the air with graceful precision. Each line gave off a unique impression, manipulated energy, and kernels of embedded presence.
All things considered, it seemed Agatha was en route to fulfilling the qualifications of the Imprint Masters.
A few seconds passed, and something similar to a sepia page ripped from a timeworn record appeared. Agatha skimmed, and with her rapidly moving eyes came disappointment and chagrin.
"Even the Record of Ancient Wisdom is no help in this regard. A Broken Vain has never appeared before… and if it had, there were no sightings. So it must not have walked upon Xenith's great pastures."
That didn't mean a Broken Vain didn't exist, though. Kieran looked to Scar and remembered one of their first meaningful talks. During that conversation, he had learned some important things.
Like how the transformations of True Berserkers had been altered over the years and how a couple of True Berserkers had entered the Trial but never returned, their fates now unknown.
Now that he was privy to the Oath of the Chained Myths, Kieran started weaving disparate truths and matching guesses — even if only subtly logical.
He believed the way True Berserkers were transformed, tried, and tested was greatly altered due to its vast failures compared to the other six Myths.
The number of failures approached the hundreds. More than that, Scar had clued him into another truth he had hidden within misinformation. Agrianos' situation was similar to Eni's.
He was not a True Berserker and never was because he had always been something grander, but he was the Father of the Lineage. The Maddened were created with the help of Argexes the Maddened's blood, but Agrianos' equally frenetic blood paved the way to what they had today.
His blood dampened the link between Warrior and Argexes, allowing for growth before corruption.
Agrianos was born with power, whereas the subsequent generations had to grow into it.
A piece of vital information, no doubt. Because Scar was the only real True Berserker ever to be made, the rest were failures in aspects Scar wasn't fit to name.
'At least we know they're failures, though. And… we understand why Scar stressed that I take a break to relax. The burden of this Trial has just increased tenfold. Perhaps heavier than that.'
Kieran paced while Agatha looked askance at him.
Scar was occupied, too, staring up at the ceiling with a heavy glint in his burnished gold eyes. They were somber and grim. But remained dutiful and focused, like he was looking at something superior.
Curious, Kieran followed his gaze, even activating his True Unveiling Eyes and Eyes of Profound Discerning. He could look beyond the ceiling for tens of meters, but that was it. Piercing through physical material weakened his ocular strength.
Something he didn't quite understand, considering both these eyes were designed to pierce the veil of the abstruse, which remained infinitely more complex than the physical.
Kieran shook his head with a dismal spark flitting in his gaze.
'My understanding of these things is superficial. Too much to learn…experience.'
When he shook off his morose thoughts, Scar was still focused on the above, whatever rested there.
Curiosity won. Kieran needed to know.
"What is up there?"
Scar's gaze lingered, losing its solemn presence soon after.
"The sky."
Kieran scowled.
'Kind of obvious, no? Obviously, the sky is up there, no?'
"Well, yes, I get that. But what are you so focused on?'
"That's precisely what I am telling you, boy. Open your ears. I am looking at The Sky."
Scar had put significantly more emphasis on "the sky" this time, which meant it should mean something to Kieran. But it didn't.
Agatha sighed, pained by the exchange between master and student.
"You two are such oafs. At least tell him in a way he'd understand. The Sky is a place. That Sanctuary you visit all the time? It exists between here and the Sky, a link of sorts. The Sky is not as glorious and beautiful as you want it to be. It is part of why I choose not to become a Myth. The Sky… it crushes."
Now, Kieran was left even more stupefied, his expression wholly altered by confusion.
'The Sky crushes…'
He grimaced and exhaled.
"So let me get this right. The Sky is a place… or maybe a thing? And it crushes, so for that reason, you don't want to be a Myth?"
Agatha gave him a deadpan and impassive nod.
"Yes."
Then, Kieran turned, shifting between Scar and Agatha several times before violently facepalming. The meaty slap was a loud echo in the room.
"You're no better than Scar. I thought you'd provide answers, and all you did was create room for more concerning questions. And I don't even know how to ask them."
"Don't group me together with that numbskull. He hasn't read a book in his life! And, I'll have you know, my explanation was tens of times better than his."
Scar gave a noncommittal shrug.
"The boy is still confused. I'd say you did an equally terrible job. He is right. You're a poor teacher."
Agatha seethed, and her plum-colored hair danced a furious waltz, rising and swaying from the blustery mystic winds spiraling around her.
"The Mystic Light is dim! That is not something I can control. He'd make for a better student if he were a bit brighter."
Scar disagreed. Sparks of mirth, glee, and innocuous mischief fused within his expression.
"Nah, my boy's pretty smart. I can vouch. Your eloquence is lacking. That's all. It's okay to be lacking, though. We learn, experience, and fail. Life is set that way."
Agatha groaned, apoplectic and incapable of sharing her feelings through words. She looked at them again. Her gnashed teeth formed a prison that a second and more agitated groan had to burst past.
Scar smiled, but then it vanished as quickly as it came. He and Kieran looked at each other, sensing an unsteadying ripple oscillating in a strange rhythm.
A ripple only they could feel.
The Trial of Inheritors…
The gates were either opened or preparing to open at this very moment. All hints of laughter or joy dried up like well water in the sweltering heat.
Scar grabbed Kieran and touched their forehead silently before cautioning him solemnly.
"Boy… the time has come. All of the Myths have gathered together. All that remains is you and I. Remember what I told you. The Trial will show you the truth in a way that'll impact you the most. Accept it for what it is. Don't run away from it."
Kieran nodded.
"I can't run away. Don't you know? So much rest on the lines. If I run, I become a Vain, and then I'll be lost. No thanks."
Scar didn't have much of a response to that answer. He only ripped open one of his infamous portals, notorious for the bumpy ride. Luckily, Agatha was partial to Kieran.
Before they stepped in, she blasted it with mystical energy, restructuring and smoothening the portal's interior.
Agatha winked and waved.
"Enjoy your trip, boys. Don't break anything. Oh, and don't be so vain. Strive to be authentic and significant. Bye now!"
The portal into The Sky closed behind them.
