A silence between Kieran and the Sacred Inheritor ensued.
There was no relationship between them, yet Kieran asked for help. It wasn't completely unthinkable, though. Every Inheritor understood there would come a time when they would be forced to work as one.
Still, from what Kieran gathered of the Sacred Inheritor's personality, she didn't seem like a person keen on rendering selfless aid. She had said it before — her individual needs took precedence when it came to herself or others.
But, this was not a situation they could unravel alone. It required teamwork, and that understanding became increasingly clear the longer Kieran remained inside the Trial.
The incident with the Bloodwight was the gravest catalyst of his current understanding. He may bear the most tremendous burden, but it was a shared task.
Over the past few days, a thought had occurred to Kieran — what if there were hints of the Flame's conniving plan scattered across the experiences of the Inheritors? But, of course, there was also the possibility that their experiences were completely independent of the Trial's theme. Perhaps they endured struggles tailored precisely to their unique Source without serving a contributory purpose.
That was food for thought, but Kieran didn't have time to consider what their every experience could be. Soon, the awkward silence was broken by the Sacred Inheritor's stiff reply.
"Right. I remember that weird, ancient voice referring to you as an Anchor. I didn't understand what it meant then — still don't if you're wondering, but yeah. So… what do your abilities entail?"
Kieran arched a brow in deep thought, rubbing his chin pensively. He had a decision to make now. Reveal all the pertinent information he held, cluing the Sacred Inheritor in on his suspicions of the Trial itself, the Anchor, and several other bizarre matters, or keep a tight lid on what he knew.
Information was usually more valuable than gold because it could become a weapon of frightening lethality or a bulwark of immense safety — in the right hands. In the wrong hands, it could also become an indestructible shackle.
But, his ability as an Anchor didn't tie into any of his secrets. There shouldn't be any harm in revealing its uses. However, to explain what he could do… he would have to teach the Sacred Inheritor about the nuances of Significance.
'Huh… am I about to become a teacher?'
Kieran grimaced at the thought.
When it came to Significance, he was a newcomer himself. He hadn't met the criterion needed to become a full-fledged master of the craft, but… he could share what little he knew in hopes of broadening the horizons of others.
In the end, it'd benefit him more than keeping his findings to himself.
'Right. That will keep them from weighing me down…'
Kieran gave the Anchor a pointed look before continuing upon his avenue of thought.
'Like a damned Anchor.'
Deciding to moderate how much he disclosed, limiting himself only to information pertinent to their current situation or that would help prepare them to become Masters in the future, Kieran spoke about his abilities as the Anchor.
"I can — for the most part — sense, sense, and interact with the Chains that you Inheritors carry. It's not made up of something concrete like Mana, which is probably why you can't see it, although you were cast from a Mage Type."
The Sacred Inheritor gasped on the other side.
"Wait, that's kind of broken. That means you can sabotage us if you're feeling hateful. No one man should have all that power."
Kieran's expression darkened while listening to the Sacred Inheritor's immediate cynicism. Granted, he had the same thought. But he was a bit of a hypocrite.
'Right, my thoughts are my own… get your own.'
"It's really not all that powerful if I'm being honest. Out of all of the Chains, I have the greatest connection with you, and that's why I need your help. I think we've been in this place long enough. I want to leave."
Shockingly enough, the Sacred Inheritor was of an entirely different mindset. Her opinion of the Trial was not as spartan. She had landed in a blissful paradise compared to Kieran's bloody hell.
Which she remained clueless of because he had chosen not to speak about those unspeakable experiences.
Watching the embers of life and flames of hope vanish from childish eyes was a haunting sight. It pulled at heartstrings Kieran forgot he had possessed. They had long since withered and were decayed further by the hatred buried in his soul, memories, and sometimes idle thoughts.
As the two talked, Kieran found that although the Sacred Inheritor seemed selfish, crass, and churlish, that wasn't all there was to her. At some point, Kieran began to wonder if her earlier words were part of a facade, but that thought was shredded to pieces quickly.
"So, you're pretty handsome. Who am I kidding — very handsome. How is it that you're still a virgin? Do you despise the physical touch of a woman? If you felt mine… I'm sure your opinion would be changed. Unless you're well… you know a likewise lover."
Kieran stared with his head acock and jaw slackened in disbelief.
'I take back every positive thought I've had. She might be an actual whore, now that I think about it. Hey, the world's oldest profession, am I right?'
"Can we stop straying from the topic at hand already?"
The Sacred Inheritor sighed miserably, her loud groans full of theatrics and dramatics. Kieran couldn't see it, but he could tell from the changes in her pitch.
"But I've already understood everything you said. The Chains are forged from Significance, but we already knew as much. In that regard, you were pretty slow to realize. I'm a bit scared you might be all beauty and no brains, and that's frightening."
The irresistible urge to spitefully utter his name to have the connection forcibly severed bubbled in Kieran's mind, but he ultimately resisted the impulse of that cacoethes.
What the Sacred Inheritor didn't know was that at the beginning of the Trial, unlike the rest of the Inheritors, Kieran had been stripped of everything — memory, power, and technique — and was forced to explore the depths of his tenacity to find his lowest low.
That abyssal place in his heart that hid his despotic virulence.
Fortunately, he had not reached that point. The Flame's interest was piqued before he could break completely and descend into that dark place.
Ignoring her disparaging comments, Kieran questioned the Sacred Inheritor again.
"So, will you help me or not? This place is inevitably a lie created to test us. Do you want to remain stuck in a lie?"
"If the lie is sweet, treats me well, and makes me feel uniquely special… yes. I'll gladly live in a lie despite knowing the Barmecidal reality that everything is an incredible, illusory figment."
Kieran face contorted with uncertainty.
"So is that a yes… or no?"
"Ah, you're such an airhead for sure. Yes, I'll help you, moron. If I want, I can create my own false reality. A better one, with more strapping men. Not… whatever these creatures are."
Kieran sighed in relief. He stopped clutching his chest, and the two… began devising a plan to combine their powers effectively.
