The warm morning sun snaked its way into the cold stones that formed the Junior Librarian Sleeping Quarters, its rays peeking through the small stained glass window at the back of the outer wall.
In a bed that had been pushed slowly into the corner of the modestly sized room, a young man laid in a state of sleep so deep that the several Elders, who had been called to see if he was still alive, could not wake him. The only hints that the boy was still amongst the living were his shallow breathing, and the occasional delusional murmurs. Many thought the boy had finally fallen ill, and had little life left within him. For reasons unknown, Elder Caruse seemed convinced that the boy was "fine for now", and simply slipped some broth and water through his unresponsive lips on occasion.
Unbeknownst to Valen, he had not simply fallen asleep, he had fallen into a coma-like state for the last few days. While he remained asleep, he was flooded with vision-like dreams, reimaginations of the horrific pasts that he had collected in his mind. He digested the immense amounts of information, learning and understanding the key points and truths. Afterall, this history had spanned multiple lifetimes, multiple worlds, and according to some scholars, possibly even multiple time-lines.
Valen was not quick to believe that last one, after all there was quite little evidence. Of course, some history was fragmented, unable to find its particular place in the history of most recorded worlds. However, that did not simply mean that there were worlds that haven't been recorded properly yet.
Afterall, even his own family had migrated from one of said worlds. Granted, their world was nothing like the one he was born into. From what his Grandmother had told him, their ancestral world was rather "mundane". Her World was not mystical or twisted, rather it seemed to be relatively logical in comparison, yet far more complex than he could comprehend.
He struggled to envision what such a world would have been like. Regardless of the stories of horrific and terrible wars, something always seemed missing when she described that world to him.
'What was their purpose?'
He could not know, and never would. Many migrants from his Grandmother's and parents' world did not last long in this new one. Their perspectives were too ingrained to the world they were created within, unable to truly encompass the mystical aspects of their new world.
Valen did not doubt that few lived still, or that even those that had been here did not leave children behind. He simply did not have it within him to learn about it, he was destined to set off on his Path forward, not look at his family's past. Such a mundane and recently destroyed world would take at least a few centuries to be ingrained into the webs of their new reality.
Instead, Valen's anticipation and worry were rooted in other newly appearing realities. Ones that had more foreign mystical powers and problems. Afterall, these uncharted realities were like treasure troves to those who sought to forge a new path to power in this world. In reality, most died perilous deaths, disappearing into the vast world. Only leaving behind a few partially cleared paths in their wake.
Valen had originally considered searching for his Parents' path, that was until he learned amongst the mountains of observational data and theory publications changed his mind. According to a recently completed study, a Path would begin to dissolve back into the web of realities as long as there was no one alive who was walking or had walked it. Meaning, that Valen would not be able to find his parents' path, because it should have disappeared by now.
Such was the case for many children of migrants in this world, rarely would they get to inherit a pathway from their parents. Most Migrants would end up as Pathfinders, pioneering the chaotic and unknown dangers that lurked beyond the settled lands. For them, it was a desperate attempt to forge a legacy for their families, to seize the power for future generations. But what good would such power do if there was no one to use it?
Valen understood why the distinguished families who collaborated to run this expansive society didn't provide safe paths for migrants, regardless of the bitter taste it left him, and he would probably do the same. Afterall, inheriting a path was not just a metaphor in this world like his parents' mundane world, he understood it was a genuine inheritance.
His Ancestral World, whilst dying, was still a completed world for all of its existence. However this new one was unformed and changing, what made it habitable was a singular existence, "The Heart". The Core of Realities, it connected to every realm of existence, slowly pulling out fragments of fallen worlds. Piecing them together slowly with assistance of the refugees of said destroyed worlds. The People trekked away from The Heart, creating new paths to be placed into existence, developing a Frankenstein of a world. With the necessity to expand and develop to accommodate new generations and new settlers, the People who lived within the Rift of Reality developed a unique culture.
The Pride of Pathways.
Anyone who came or was born into this world had the option to leave the settled lands, and claim the remnant powers of the fallen realms. Thus the People began to call those pioneers "Pathfinders", individuals who ventured out to obtain strange and mystical abilities and powers. They would risk their lives, experiencing the horrors that plagued the fallen realms, and use them to form their power.
Later, when the first Pathfinders returned to the Core, the Lands supported by the Heart, they began to form formidable families. Their children would be tutored and molded from young ages to inherit the same abilities, and taught the complex nature of their already explored paths, increasing their chances of survival.
While not all powerful families followed this model, the largest of them did. The smaller but more frightening families believed that those who forge their own paths were superior than those who didn't. The Upper class began to refer to the two separate groups by different monikers: "Path Takers" and "Trail Blazers".
Valen did not understand the need to differentiate between "Pathfinders" and "Trailblazers", he assumed that it must simply be a matter of pride amongst the high-class folk.
While Valen had considered attempting to become a tutor or student for a prominent Pathfinder's Family, using that connection to walk a charted path for the foundation of his journey, he ultimately decided against it. One of the main appeals to forging One's own unique path was the hidden and unique abilities and boons hidden within them. Even if he could find a path to gain access to some intriguing ability, like Flight, he would not take it.
Sharing Lineages with others could be a boon, especially if you trusted them enough to assist you in understanding and training your abilities. That depth in technique and skill expression was a massive boon for the established Families. However, One's cards being available for all to see could also be a weakness for an individual who was greedy for power.
Valen did not spend too much time learning about the relatively new and contemporary history of this strange world, and so he was not familiar with the politics of the lands in which he resided. Valen vaguely remembered a few Family names, simply because he had to understand the rough geography of this world, of which 8 Families stood at the precipice.
Those 8 Families were the Founding Families, each had formed massive paths outward from The Heart, allowing more established Path walkers to settle farther away from The Heart. Valen did not know why few Path-Walkers returned to the Heartlands, he assumed it was related to the inconvenience of returning, he remained clueless.
It was only on the morning of his fifth day of slumber that Valen awoke.
His body was stiff, more so than usual, yet it felt more replenished than it had been in months. His deep slumber seemed to have seeped through his skin and into his bones, repairing and renewing the exhausted flesh. His dried out fingers rubbed away the crust that sealed his eyelids, tears rushing to moisten the newly exposed irises.
Rolling his shoulders and stretching his poorly healed right leg, Valen felt the blood rush through his body, like horses stampeding the turf of a fresh race track. His ears pounded, and his head seemed to sway like a flower in the wind. He fought through the rush and took deep breaths, scratching away at the ringing sound that overtook his hearing. The menagerie of strange sensations reminded him that he was still alive, the sensations shocked his dormant consciousness into action.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Valen pushed himself up to his feet. Letting his eyes adapt to the rainbow of colors sprawling over the cold stone floor, looking through the small mosaic window, grasping the suns' location.
'Hm. It still seems quite early. I must have not slept too long, yet everyone has already risen for the day?'
Remaining curious as to how much time had passed, Valen slowly wandered out into the corridors that ran along the edge of the library. His feet could feel the cool touch of the stone floor, even through his thin leather sandals.
'Yes. It seems that today is the day. My body feels as well as it ever will. Perhaps I shall have some food first, I seem quite hungry.'
Hunger wasn't anything new to Valen, however it seemed abnormal in the moment. His appetite was not large by any means, being used to eating every other day at most. With that being the case, Valen would not feel actual hunger after a single night's sleep, or else we would have never lived this long. Valen thought he had almost grown numb to hunger, that was what made it so strange to him in the moment.
He continued pressing forward, making his way ever so slowly to the Staff Kitchens, only stopping to glance at the various artworks that adorned the walls. Most of them were historical depictions or re-creations, none of them would be genuine artworks of fallen worlds. Those would be stored in the Grand Museum of Paths, only a few kilometers east of the Grand Citadel Library. Still, the depictions unsettled him deeply despite the immense skill required to create them, mostly because he feared the reality of experiencing one of them himself.
Valen tried to push those thoughts into the nearest corner of his mind that he could find. He was too close to begin to surrender to the seeds of doubt, he only knew forward.
"So he lives!" Elder Caruse's voice sliced through his cloudy thoughts, rendering him stumped.
'What kind of reaction is that?'
"Pardon?"
The elder shook his head, "Valen, you have been asleep for five days. I began to wonder if you would wake at all."
Valen's newly refreshed eyes shook, his face drained of what little color had been restored.
'Five days? Wait… That means…'
"SHIT! That means tomorrow is fall!"
Elder Caruse's lips pursed. "A studious young man should learn to watch his tongue, it is rather uncouth."
He sighed, shaking his head with a hint of tangible disappointment. "Yes, Tomorrow is fall. I will not stop you, should you decide to leave. You must already know the dangers of traversing new lands during the transition of seasons, so I will not repeat them."
"Indeed, but I must."
"Oh?" The Elder's brow peaked in curiosity. "You bear no path, yet you must go now?"
Valen nodded earnestly, there weren't any other people in this world who would remember him should he pass, so he wished for Elder Caruse to know his truth at least.
"I may not have inherited a path to walk, but I have formed a plan." Taking a breath, his weak lungs demanding air. "I have reason to believe that something of great importance can only be found within the bounds of a summer-founded path. I know that Scholar Justicas recent studies haven't been finalized, but I have found some compelling leads that seem to support the theory."
"And so you wish to trust that your hypothesis is right?"
"If a man cannot trust in his own preparations, how can he succeed? I understand my limits, I believe I have done what I can to ensure my success. So I must go and prove my theory."
Valen's eyes were firm and steady in his resolve, he believed the words he said with all his capacity. He understood what was at stake, but Valen had played it safe until now. Now it was time to gamble, with his life on the line.
Elder Caruse nodded firmly, "Good. Once you eat, I shall send you off to the Gates."