Memories: [Silver Bell], [Deplorable Dagger], [Puppeteer's Shroud], [Crimson Cloak], [Hero's Solace].
Deciding to proceed with order, Sunny first turned his attention on his Memories.
His Flaw—the loquacious Jiminy Cricket—fell uncharacteristically silent for a moment, granting him the mental space to think.
'Now then! What do we have here?' he wondered, rubbing his palms together energetically. A curious spark of childish glee lighting up his dark eyes.
---
Memory: [Silver Bell].
Memory Rank: Dormant.
Memory Tier: I.
Memory Type: Tool.
Memory Enchantments: [Silver Song].
Memory Description: [A small memento of a long-lost home, which once brought its owner comfort and joy. Its clear ringing can be heard from miles away.]
-
Memory: [Puppeteer's Shroud].
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Tier: IV.
Memory Type: Armor.
Memory Enchantments: [Enhanced Durability], [Doubtless], [Blessing of Spirit].
Memory Description: [A worm of doubt...]
---
'These are the same Memories he had...' Sunny mused, a frown tugging at his lips. 'The Spell is feeding me with the same loot. Does it even know of the shifts in the great tapestry of Fate?'
---
Memory: [Deplorable Dagger].
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Tier: I.
Memory Type: Weapon.
Memory Enchantments: [Treacherous].
Memory Description: [There is no glory in pursuing an endless struggle. Only those who seek life beyond War truly live up to the name of War.]
---
Sunny offered a faint, grateful smile to his black dagger. He had forged a precious bond with this blade.
When he had found himself alone in the cold dark of the mountain's night, the [Deplorable Dagger] had been a new found friend.
Against humans and monster, its [Treacherous] enchantment had filled the void he felt. He had given him exactly what he thought he lacked.
---
Memory: [Hero's Solace].
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Tier: I.
Memory Type: Garment.
Memory Enchantments: [Clarity].
Memory Description: [This pendant was a huntress's gift to her companions, intended to protect them when their paths diverged. A young man once found comfort in clutching the emerald prism—a feeling that gave him strength in his darkest nights.]
---
'A huntress's gift?' Sunny noted, the description sparking a trail of thought. 'If I'm not wrong, among the Nine, Orphne was the Huntress. She pursued beasts that existed only in myth and tracked creatures beyond reason. She knew the runes and she even hunted and struck down Weaver, the Daemon of Fate.'
<
Sunny nodded and checked the enchantment.
[Clarity] Enchantment Description: "When worn, this charm emits a subtle warmth that dispels doubt and fear. It restores clarity to the mind and spirit of its bearer."
'I was hoping for something flashier, like that shield of light Auro used, but this is also fine.'
---
Memory: [Crimson Cloak].
Memory Rank: Ascendant.
Memory Tier: I.
Memory Type: Garment.
Memory Enchantments: [Growth], [Tough Fabric], [Blind Glory].
[Growth] Enchantment Description: "The cloak can absorb the life essence of your fallen foes to nourish the bearer's physical mass, restore their stamina, or mend their wounds."
[Tough Fabric] Enchantment Description: "The exquisite weave of this mantle is far more resilient than it appears. Blades and arrows find no purchase; the fangs and claws of mere beasts cannot rend it."
[Blind Glory] Enchantment Description: "The longer the bearer fights, the more the Cloak's crimson fabric poisons their mind with an insatiable desire for slaughter. It's a sweet poison that numb pain and tiredness."
---
'Not bad! Not bad at all!' he thought, rubbing his chin with satisfaction. 'I'm more than satisfied.'
Sunny was thoroughly enjoying the sight of the fruits of his efforts. Despite the complications that the [Blind Glory] enchantment entailed, everything else was fine.
This Memory was excellent, too.
Then, he read the description. His blood ran cold.
Memory Description: [Once, there was a boy blessed by Heart, who lost his world to the Empire's flame. In the frantic pursuit of vengeance, he lost himself. He abandoned the green fields of his people to embrace the crimson of war. The boy—proclaimed a Champion by the War God—became the very monster he sought to destroy. He was not corrupted by the Void, but by his own bottomless, insatiable thirst for slaughter. For years he marched, draped in the blood-stained banner of his own making.
Until, one day, the Champion met the most harrowing foe ever existed. A treacherous shadow—a demon wearing a man's face.
"You want me to kill you?" the shadow said.
"So be it, Goliath—Champion of War, Child of Heart. But know this. There will be no epic battle. No honor. No joy. There will only be you, begging me, pleading for an end to your agony. You will spend your final moments repenting for every sin, thinking of your creators in the afterlife—who will look down upon you with nothing but overflowing disappointment. This is not a promise, Goliath. It's simply your unavoidable solace."
The words of the treacherous shadow cut deeper than any blade, carving through the Champion's honor until nothing remained. And on the following day, faithful to its word, the treacherous shadow brought the Champion's corpse before his Gods—but denied him the grace of prayer.]
Sunny facepalmed so hard the slap echoed through the bathroom.
<
It fell off his shoulder, and even after landing on the ground he continued to laugh at its full as it rolled across the bathroom floor.
'Shut. Up.' Sunny hissed, his face burning with sheer, unadulterated embarrassment.
Letting his anger and awkwardness simmer down, Sunny exhaled a long, slow sigh. He let his right hand slide from his face to his side, while his left rested on his hip.
There was so much more he wanted to say, so much more he wanted to explore. He would have gladly spent the entire day studying his Memories, but he knew Jet wouldn't wait forever. This lazy, hurried evaluation was the best he could manage for now.
In his mind's eye, he watched the Jiminy Cricket scramble back up his spine, settling comfortably onto his left shoulder. It was time to look at his Attributes.
Attributes: [Foreign], [Shadow Weave], [Essence of Divinity], [Child of War], [Shadowspawn], [the Heart].
'Six. I have six now,' Sunny thought, a mix of satisfaction and sheer disbelief washing over him.
<
---
Attribute: [Shadow Weave]
"You have inherited a part of Weaver's forbidden lineage. Your shadow is deeper and darker than the others."
Attribute: [Shadowspawn]
"You were born from the shadows. The shadows recognize you as one of their own."
---
[Shadow Weave] and [Shadowspawn] remained familiar, their presence a grounding constant.
Then, he moved to the newcomers.
---
Attribute: [Essence of Divinity]
"The divinity within you has reached such a level to alter the very nature of your essence."
Attribute: [Child of War]
"War recognizes you as one of its own."
Attribute: [the Heart]
"You have inherited the complete lineage of the Heart God."
---
'These must be the blessings from Heart and War, woven together with Shadow,' Sunny mused.
He sighed again, his head dropping as he stared at the floor. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides.
'Is it really okay for me to have all this power from the very start?' The question echoed in his mind—a volatile cocktail of insecurity and dread.
As usual, his Flaw intervened to offer its two cents. <
Sunny looked up and smirked. 'Hey, I wasn't complaining. But thanks! It's good to hear.'
<
A lump formed in Sunny's throat.
'Yeah. I know.'
It wasn't that he had done it on purpose. But deep down, he felt it was better to save the most unsettling for last.
Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes to prepare for the worst. Sunny opened the runes for his first attribute—the one that had felt like a noose tightening around his neck. Those mysterious question marks were the only thing preventing him from looking into the eye of the beast.
When he opened his eyes again...
---
Attribute: [Foreign]
"Fate does not rest upon a void; it creates its own pillars. The strings of fate wrap tightly around you; as one of its pillars, its weaves are more malleable in your presence."
---
Suddenly, Sunny's vision blurred.
His head spun with a violent vertigo, and his breath grew agonizingly heavy.
Slowly, pressing his hand against the wall for support, he lowered himself to the floor.