Paragon of Destruction

Arran made several attempts to gather some of the material, but without any success. Neither his fists nor the starmetal sword — his only weapon that could withstand the Essence in the area — left even the slightest scratch on it, no matter how hard he tried.

Eventually, he gave up on acquiring the glassy material, but instead decided to leave his sword out in the open while he trained. It didn’t seem to be negatively affected by the hostile environment, and perhaps it would benefit in some way.

Now that there were no more ruins obstructing Arran’s view, he saw that the large buildings that rose from the center of the city stood among what looked like a sea of glass. Everything else had been obliterated completely, but these few buildings had weathered the cataclysm mostly intact — even though they had been at the very center of it.

That could only mean they were protected in some way, and that gave Arran hope that they might still hold treasures.

Yet if Arran’s hopes of treasures at the heart of the city increased, his hopes of actually reaching it grew dimmer with each passing day.

Each day, he would spend hours sitting amid the invisible but violent Essence that filled the city, absorbing it and using it to strengthen his body, like a blacksmith’s hammer hardening steel. But however effective the training might be, the strength of the Essence that surrounded him seemed to grow exponentially stronger as he came closer to reaching the city center.

The lake of glass stretched a mile from the heart of the city, and just crossing a quarter of it took Arran two weeks, with the second of those only yielding a hundred paces of progress.

That left him with just two more weeks to cross the remaining distance, which was plainly impossible — if his instincts were correct, the final stretch would take him far longer than everything that came before it.

He gave the matter some thought, but no matter how much he pondered it, he could not think of a way to increase his resistance to Essence any faster. And without increasing his resistance, there was no way he could make it all the way — not without being heavily injured, or even dying.

Discouraged, he headed out of the city for the first time in months.

Although there were still two weeks left, Snowcloud might already have returned, and if she had, Arran would not delay her any longer. While further training in the city would definitely benefit him, it wasn’t worth making her wait if he could not achieve his goal.

Leaving the city only took him a few minutes. He already went to the edge of the city several times a day to recover in between his training sessions, and from there, it was only a short distance to the outer edge of the formation.

When Arran arrived outside the city, he was unsurprised to find that Snowcloud wasn’t there. There were still two weeks to go before they were supposed to meet, and her task was far from an easy one.

What did surprise him — and unpleasantly at that — was that his Sense was much weaker than it had been before he entered the city. After months enduring the screams of pressure within the city, he found that he now had trouble observing the world of whispers that existed outside it.

Still, he was confident that once he left the city for good, his Sense would rapidly recover. There were no signs of permanent damage, so it should be a simple matter of becoming accustomed to the outside world again.

But first, he would continue his training — at least until Snowcloud was back.

The remaining two weeks went by quickly, with Arran making some slight progress in the city each day, while also regularly checking outside the city to see if Snowcloud had returned.

Yet after the initial three months had passed, there was still no sign of her, and by now Arran began to feel worried. Although it was likely that she was simply delayed in her task, he could not help but think of everything that could have happened to her.

Despite his worries, he continued his training. Even if he felt the urge to set off in search of Snowcloud, he wouldn’t know where to start looking, and if she returned while he was searching for her it could be months before they found each other.

Nevertheless, the worries caused his progress to slow down greatly. When he trained he found himself distracted more often than not, and after the first week, he began to check outside the city several times a day.

Another two weeks passed like this, with Arran spending much of his time outside the city, and barely getting results in those few hours he had left for training each day.

That alone would have been enough to bring his progress toward the heart of the city to a near-complete halt, but even as Arran’s training slowed, the difficulty of advancing further increased with leaps and bounds. By now, it was as if the density of lingering Essence within the city doubled with each additional step, and in two weeks, he barely advanced a dozen paces.

Finally, he gave up.

There was no way he could make it to the city center in any reasonable amount of time, and his worries about Snowcloud had grown to the point where his training suffered too much to still be useful. Continuing like this would be an exercise in futility, he knew.

While he was loath to admit that he had failed, there was nothing for it but to accept defeat — at least temporarily. He would return to the city in a few years, and by then, he should be able to make it all the way inside to find whatever treasures lay at the heart of the city.

Right now, he would spend a few more weeks waiting for Snowcloud outside the city, while giving his Sense time to recover.

If Snowcloud still hadn’t returned by then, he would set off to search for her — and at that task, he would not fail. No matter where she was or how long it took, he would find her, and if anyone got in his way...

Just the thought of it caused a cold feeling of rage to rise up in Arran, and it took him some time to calm himself.