The many objects of wood that come out of the murky water are giant, gnarled, and unnatural in their construction. Nothing here can possibly be called a plant, let alone a tree. I refuse to believe these are living creatures in the way they grasp at the sky like a demented God. The wood is uncomfortable to even look at, but it is the only land amongst this high water.
I hear Blake take a gasp of air before speaking quietly under her breath. I can only hear her because she is carrying me due to my injuries that desperately need to be tended to.
“Oh my… Where the hell are we?”
I sputter out a question, hoping that she will fulfill it quickly.
“Can you find somewhere to rest? Or get away from those Hunters? I think I’m bleeding pretty bad.”
Blake breaks out of her awe and nods before wading through the water that now reaches her waist.
“Y–yeah. I’m sorry. I think we’re close to a Crossroads. Or at least one that used to be here. I guess Alonzo was telling the truth. None of this is natural.”
The woman speeds up as fast as she can while Dakota paddles to keep up. All I can do is watch my blood seep out and leave a trail behind us in the water. I can’t feel my toes in the water. I think that lady got me in my spine. Not good. Not good at all.
But as I keep my eyes peeled at the edges of the mist behind me even as blood loss starts to eat at my focus, no one appears. Nothing does. Blake treks this way for almost half an hour before deciding to take a break by climbing atop one of the gnarled fingers of dark wood. A single one is large enough for all three of us, Blake, Dakota, and I to lay in the fingers curve after some effort.
The woman immediately starts tending to my wounds with what she can do, wrapping me in bandages and using a healing salve of her own made by another doctor like Heath. I thank her for this and for coming back for me.
“Thank you, Blake. I appreciate it.”
The shy woman shakes her head and stutters in her answer.
“I–It’s nothing.”
I try to make some more conversation while she finishes up tending to my wounds as I’m clueless as to where we are right now.
“Are we in the Laughing Reeds? Or a Crossroads?”
Blake looks around at the mist and the finger that we’re sitting on before shrugging her shoulders.
“I’m not sure… th–these kinds of places are normally off-limits for everyone but Pillars and Forerunners because of their danger, so there isn’t much information about them. But now that I think about it, I have heard stories about a region, Satan’s Hand, in Sinscreak a few decades ago that when people enter, not only do they never return but it's said that they are taken to some otherworldly place by wooden hands. Only at some random time, it disappeared, and people could roam it normally without danger.”
She takes a short break in her explanation as she finishes bandaging my fucked up back before continuing with her own thoughts.
“I didn’t think much of it being connected to the Crossroads, but now that we’re here, I think it’s plausible that the Laughing Reeds might just be the newest form of Satan’s Hand because of a Crossroads. I’ve never heard about it before, though, so this one must be new.”
Her words make some sense. Alonzo did say that this region is known for having Crossroads by other Sextons but that they come and go. I wonder why that is. I know that Crossroads are creations of natural Ether colliding and creating some kind of rift in reality, but how can they just disappear like that? Surely there has to be something special about this place.
The conversation drifts quickly to Otto and Johnny who are gone. I ask her what she thinks happened as she knows this place better than me.
“What do you think happened to Otto? You think he’s okay?”
The woman can only shrug.
“I–I’m not sure. I think he might have just outpaced us. At least that’s what I hope. I hope he’s not in the Crossroads without us.”
I go quiet for a little bit as I think of Otto and Johnny wandering into the Crossroads, a place said to be highly dangerous with one wounded and the other basically comatose. After a few moments, I ask Blake another question, but this time it is about her skills, specifically, her life draining one that can help her heal. I want to get to them as fast as possible, and I can’t do that this hurt.
“Blake?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Could you somehow use that skill of yours to heal me? I’m pretty banged up right now, and I don’t think I’ll be of much help anytime soon.”
She takes a moment to think before shrugging.
“Maybe? I’ve never tried before. For most Abbots, our Vigor, which is what I use during my Deathtouch to heal me, is only useful for ourselves. But mine is a bit unique as I can only take it from others and myself, if I’m willing to devour a bit of my own life to strengthen myself, unlike others who slowly accumulate it over time.”
I slightly nod to her thoughts. I’d say it’s worth a try as it’s better than me trying to communicate with the Bloody Palm. I still feel a sense of foreboding darkness just looking at it. It’s probably best if I wait to confront the bundle of survivalistic hate until I reach 4th Sigil. Which means, I’m out of an arm and half of my arsenal until then.
I try to shrug back at her, but it only manages to spark the pain and make me gasp.
“Can you try? Doubt it could hurt–oww…”
She shakes her head in agreement.
“Sure. You saved my life, I can sacrifice a bit to try and heal you.”
I watch as Blake places a gray-covered hand on her arm that slowly starts to turn red, the color of Vigor, a highly unique form of Ether that isn’t antagonistic to the normal human. I do feel a bit of guilt for what I’m having her do as I see her face turn pale, but I need this help so I don’t stop her. Then, she puts the red hand against my back carefully.
A second of nothing happening passes before I feel warmth flow through me. It reminds me very slightly of the Bloody Palm’s energy as I am reminded that the artifact also has an Abbot Sigil within it. It must have its own kind of Vigor that it uses. Don’t know how the damned thing uses it though.
The warmth slowly returns feeling to my feet and toes as Blake pulls her hand away from me.
“F-Feel better?”
I nod as I’m immediately able to sit up, the healing doing much more than I expected.
“Yeah! That was incredible! Can you do it again?”
Blake shakes her head embarrassed.
“N-n-no. I used too much of my own vitality just then. I feel really dizzy and lightheaded. I’ll need a while to rest.”
“Oh… I’m sorry. I’ll take watch while you do so.”
Blake nods tiredly at me. She then kind of lays down on the wooden slant of the odd thing that we are on top of to escape the high water. I watch Blake close her eyes and take a rest.
I take a few minutes to test my limits and see how much I’ve healed, and truthfully, it’s not much. Everything still kind of hurts and the injuries from the first chase still linger as the bandages from Heath take longer than like a single day to heal a massive cut or bullet hole
As I do this all, however, I’m very conscious to stay close to Blake as the disappearance of Otto and Johnny is very worrying. Otto was at most thirty feet ahead when he up and disappeared from our sight, hearing, and even Dakota’s smell. Blake might have said that she doesn’t know if we’re in the Crossroads or not, or if we’re even in the Laughing Reeds, but I’d beg to differ.
I think we are already inside of it. I can just feel it. This mist isn’t natural. Neither are these wooden fingers coming out of the swamp.
I spend a few minutes looking into the mist from where we came, and after a while, I start to see something. Deep in the mist, twisted, shifting figures with colorful silhouettes reach up toward the heavens like spindly fingers. Laughs slowly creep into my ears as I shift uncomfortably at the sight. The laughs are many and go from lighthearted giggles to downright evil cackles of laughter.
The voices can be heard in the sighing of the wind through the black stone fingers that reach up, the reeds, and the uncomfortable laughter that echoes across the swamp and puts my hair on edge. It feels like if I spend too much time listening or if I get too close, I risk being pulled inside the mist, lost forever to whatever lurks within.
This makes me quickly look away from the mist and focus on Blake and Dakota as I have us all get a bit closer. As close as possible without waking her. I try not to look at the mist as that is what caused the laughter, but as I stare at the resting Dakota, the laughter returns.
Disembodied cackles creep down my spine and make me look around, but the second I do so, they disappear. I get a thought at this point as I whip my head back and forth.
Do these things appear when you focus on something for too long?
Gingerly, I test this theory as I stare at Blake’s sleeping face, and start counting.
One, two, three, four... fifty-six, fifty-se–!
I make it to fifty-seven before the laughter from nowhere returns, and I immediately pull my focus from her face, searching for whatever is causing this. The thing is that, once again as I look away, the sounds abruptly fade.
Confidence in my idea grows as I test it once more. I feel like I looked into the mist and at Dakota far longer than Blake, however, so I try it at her once more. I restart the count right when my eyes turn to her.
One, two, three, four… thirty-two, thirty–!
A shriek of laughter seemingly from above rips me from watching Blake as I rip my head upwards with a heartbeat that instantly doubles in speed. But again, it disappears without a trace the second I lose focus.
My theory seems to be both proven true and worse than it was at first. The time is decreasing every time it happens. I can only imagine that hearing these laughs for long periods of time is not good for you. They give me a similar feel to the Bloody Palm’s whispers, only less directly antagonistic and more accidentally dangerous. Like a creature from a different dimension that wants to have fun, trying to reach whoever is here, only that its presence alone is hard to stand.
I curl up into a little ball with a sleeping Dakota in my arms as I constantly change my focus. How did these two fall asleep? Am I the only one hearing these things? No way. I’m not crazy.
Am I crazy? No. Something has to be going on here. Is it the mist? Is it getting into us slowly? Or it is the Ether in the air?
Normally the natural Ether in the air is invisible unless moved drastically like an extremely fast gust of wind that leaves behind a slight trail. But if I use Chain Eyes, I can roughly see aerial Ether. Ether flows into my eyes and gives me sight, and what I see makes me gasp.
The mist and the area around me are covered with swirling colors of Ether. Every single strand has a different feel and color like it’s from a completely different source. Like it’s all from a different realm. It is all so… supernatural even in its dangerous splendor.
I make a mistake, however, and that is my looking at it for too long as laughs, giggles, and chuckles from some unknown entities reach my ears. I rapidly shift my focus and cut off the sight so that I don’t make the same mistake. At this point, the laughs last a second or so even after I change my focus, and they leave behind a ringing in my head. One that causes a slight burgeoning pain in my temples.
After that episode, I go completely still and constantly distract myself with everything I can think of. It's just that the only thing I have to distract myself besides falling asleep is the book from the First, so I start off by reading short bits from a random page in the First’s book. Then, whenever I get through a passage, I go looking around like a madman before returning to the words. My interest is quickly peaked as the First speaks about Absolutions, something I’ve known very little about for a long time.
I have been asked many times what a Power is by those at the forefront. Power. A curious thing, indeed. I do not talk about the concept. I talk about the true thing. These are Absolutions given substance. Before one becomes a 7th Sigil, a Power, or an Angel, however one classifies it, their Absolution, should they have one, is weak and unrefined. Only when they take the first step toward Godhood do they gain true power. Hence, Power.
My eyes scour the mist for a moment before returning to the page as my interest in Angels reaches a peak.
No Power will be the same, which is the skill given from an Absolution. They are all unique, and terrifying in their own right. Even two of the same exact Sigils will have different Powers bestowed. Mine? Well… mine lets me even the scales. That’s all I say. From long-distance instant travel to seeing the future, almost any Power can exist. The only restriction is the price one must pay, and that the Power be based on a Sigil that you resonate highly with, hence the Absolution you would have gained.
Once more I switch my attention as my mind drifts to what Strugglers Gasp might become in the future. It says the version before becoming a 7th Sigil is unrefined. But has the skill not already been refined? Maybe it’s unique because I got it so early compared to most, but I’m not sure.
Above a Power on the second step of Godhood, is a Virtue. These are the gifts from a second Absolution. Virtues enhance a core part of a person, something that once again, is unique. No two people are ever exactly the same, and neither will their Virtue be. For my safety, I will not reveal whether I have one. You never should either. Virtues can sometimes be hard to notice, but they are far more powerful than the Power that comes before them if used properly.
My eyes are ripped off the page as I feel something coming near in my subconscious mind. I think I’m getting the feel of sensing whatever this laughing thing is. I spend a short moment looking around like a madman before returning to the last two paragraphs on the small page. I grow too engrossed and read as fast as I can so as to not be caught by the Laughing Reeds.
And lastly, or at least the last part of the road to Godhood I know, is a Dominion. I believe these are also the gifts of a third Absolution, but they very well might be the innate powers of a 9th Sigil. I truthfully know very little about this stage other than that a Dominion allows you to control some aspect of your Sigil without any Ether. One gains a Dominion over something. I’m unsure as to the limitations of such a thing, but I figure they are powerful even with them.
I have said this many times, and I’ll say it once more in this book. Your Sigil is the foundation of your powers. Your skills are your hands, legs, and fingers. Your Absolutions, however, are extensions of your soul. The parts that shine so brightly, they give you abilities that can shake the earth. They are unpredictable and unique. They are humans proving to themselves and the world that we deserve to live. They are our records that we were here, the actions of those who accomplish one etched into the fabric of reality. Any can achieve one, but only we, the weak, the woeful, the hopeful, have the advantage in acquiring them.
In the darkest dark, seek Absolution, and within, hope may still lie for an early sunrise.
I barely pull my eyes away from the text fast enough to not be touched by the mist as I feel something come very close to me. Immediately, I regret getting that close to the laughs, but the First's words are the only time someone has been able to tell me what Absolutions actually are. The Hunter Manuals were vague, and no one else really had a straight answer.
And I mean, the First’s wasn’t entirely straight, but it was understandable. Absolutions are abilities taken from future Sigils that one resonates with. They are us proving to the world that we deserve to live in some way. I don’t know how all that works, but the experience sounds about right.
His words also give me an idea as to what my future might entail. Strugglers Gasp will certainly become my Power should I ever reach 7th Sigil, but I can only wonder as to what my Virtue will be. Or how they even really work. Dominions are even more confusing, though. How can you use your Sigil without Ether? How does that work? I don’t know, but I’m forced to change focus again before the giggles return.
As I do so, though, I accidentally wake Blake up with my abrupt movement, and she sits up instantly, wide-eyed, and shaking. I turn to her quickly and apologize. But she just stares down into the water below.
‘Sorry I woke you up… Are you good?”
She doesn’t reply to me. Her eyes just stay completely focused on the murky water. For far too long.
The many objects of wood that come out of the murky water are giant, gnarled, and unnatural in their construction. Nothing here can possibly be called a plant, let alone a tree. I refuse to believe these are living creatures in the way they grasp at the sky like a demented God. The wood is uncomfortable to even look at, but it is the only land amongst this high water.
I hear Blake take a gasp of air before speaking quietly under her breath. I can only hear her because she is carrying me due to my injuries that desperately need to be tended to.
“Oh my… Where the hell are we?”
I sputter out a question, hoping that she will fulfill it quickly.
“Can you find somewhere to rest? Or get away from those Hunters? I think I’m bleeding pretty bad.”
Blake breaks out of her awe and nods before wading through the water that now reaches her waist.
“Y–yeah. I’m sorry. I think we’re close to a Crossroads. Or at least one that used to be here. I guess Alonzo was telling the truth. None of this is natural.”
The woman speeds up as fast as she can while Dakota paddles to keep up. All I can do is watch my blood seep out and leave a trail behind us in the water. I can’t feel my toes in the water. I think that lady got me in my spine. Not good. Not good at all.
But as I keep my eyes peeled at the edges of the mist behind me even as blood loss starts to eat at my focus, no one appears. Nothing does. Blake treks this way for almost half an hour before deciding to take a break by climbing atop one of the gnarled fingers of dark wood. A single one is large enough for all three of us, Blake, Dakota, and I to lay in the fingers curve after some effort.
The woman immediately starts tending to my wounds with what she can do, wrapping me in bandages and using a healing salve of her own made by another doctor like Heath. I thank her for this and for coming back for me.
“Thank you, Blake. I appreciate it.”
The shy woman shakes her head and stutters in her answer.
“I–It’s nothing.”
I try to make some more conversation while she finishes up tending to my wounds as I’m clueless as to where we are right now.
“Are we in the Laughing Reeds? Or a Crossroads?”
Blake looks around at the mist and the finger that we’re sitting on before shrugging her shoulders.
“I’m not sure… th–these kinds of places are normally off-limits for everyone but Pillars and Forerunners because of their danger, so there isn’t much information about them. But now that I think about it, I have heard stories about a region, Satan’s Hand, in Sinscreak a few decades ago that when people enter, not only do they never return but it's said that they are taken to some otherworldly place by wooden hands. Only at some random time, it disappeared, and people could roam it normally without danger.”
She takes a short break in her explanation as she finishes bandaging my fucked up back before continuing with her own thoughts.
“I didn’t think much of it being connected to the Crossroads, but now that we’re here, I think it’s plausible that the Laughing Reeds might just be the newest form of Satan’s Hand because of a Crossroads. I’ve never heard about it before, though, so this one must be new.”
Her words make some sense. Alonzo did say that this region is known for having Crossroads by other Sextons but that they come and go. I wonder why that is. I know that Crossroads are creations of natural Ether colliding and creating some kind of rift in reality, but how can they just disappear like that? Surely there has to be something special about this place.
The conversation drifts quickly to Otto and Johnny who are gone. I ask her what she thinks happened as she knows this place better than me.
“What do you think happened to Otto? You think he’s okay?”
The woman can only shrug.
“I–I’m not sure. I think he might have just outpaced us. At least that’s what I hope. I hope he’s not in the Crossroads without us.”
I go quiet for a little bit as I think of Otto and Johnny wandering into the Crossroads, a place said to be highly dangerous with one wounded and the other basically comatose. After a few moments, I ask Blake another question, but this time it is about her skills, specifically, her life draining one that can help her heal. I want to get to them as fast as possible, and I can’t do that this hurt.
“Blake?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Could you somehow use that skill of yours to heal me? I’m pretty banged up right now, and I don’t think I’ll be of much help anytime soon.”
She takes a moment to think before shrugging.
“Maybe? I’ve never tried before. For most Abbots, our Vigor, which is what I use during my Deathtouch to heal me, is only useful for ourselves. But mine is a bit unique as I can only take it from others and myself, if I’m willing to devour a bit of my own life to strengthen myself, unlike others who slowly accumulate it over time.”
I slightly nod to her thoughts. I’d say it’s worth a try as it’s better than me trying to communicate with the Bloody Palm. I still feel a sense of foreboding darkness just looking at it. It’s probably best if I wait to confront the bundle of survivalistic hate until I reach 4th Sigil. Which means, I’m out of an arm and half of my arsenal until then.
I try to shrug back at her, but it only manages to spark the pain and make me gasp.
“Can you try? Doubt it could hurt–oww…”
She shakes her head in agreement.
“Sure. You saved my life, I can sacrifice a bit to try and heal you.”
I watch as Blake places a gray-covered hand on her arm that slowly starts to turn red, the color of Vigor, a highly unique form of Ether that isn’t antagonistic to the normal human. I do feel a bit of guilt for what I’m having her do as I see her face turn pale, but I need this help so I don’t stop her. Then, she puts the red hand against my back carefully.
A second of nothing happening passes before I feel warmth flow through me. It reminds me very slightly of the Bloody Palm’s energy as I am reminded that the artifact also has an Abbot Sigil within it. It must have its own kind of Vigor that it uses. Don’t know how the damned thing uses it though.
The warmth slowly returns feeling to my feet and toes as Blake pulls her hand away from me.
“F-Feel better?”
I nod as I’m immediately able to sit up, the healing doing much more than I expected.
“Yeah! That was incredible! Can you do it again?”
Blake shakes her head embarrassed.
“N-n-no. I used too much of my own vitality just then. I feel really dizzy and lightheaded. I’ll need a while to rest.”
“Oh… I’m sorry. I’ll take watch while you do so.”
Blake nods tiredly at me. She then kind of lays down on the wooden slant of the odd thing that we are on top of to escape the high water. I watch Blake close her eyes and take a rest.
I take a few minutes to test my limits and see how much I’ve healed, and truthfully, it’s not much. Everything still kind of hurts and the injuries from the first chase still linger as the bandages from Heath take longer than like a single day to heal a massive cut or bullet hole
As I do this all, however, I’m very conscious to stay close to Blake as the disappearance of Otto and Johnny is very worrying. Otto was at most thirty feet ahead when he up and disappeared from our sight, hearing, and even Dakota’s smell. Blake might have said that she doesn’t know if we’re in the Crossroads or not, or if we’re even in the Laughing Reeds, but I’d beg to differ.
I think we are already inside of it. I can just feel it. This mist isn’t natural. Neither are these wooden fingers coming out of the swamp.
I spend a few minutes looking into the mist from where we came, and after a while, I start to see something. Deep in the mist, twisted, shifting figures with colorful silhouettes reach up toward the heavens like spindly fingers. Laughs slowly creep into my ears as I shift uncomfortably at the sight. The laughs are many and go from lighthearted giggles to downright evil cackles of laughter.
The voices can be heard in the sighing of the wind through the black stone fingers that reach up, the reeds, and the uncomfortable laughter that echoes across the swamp and puts my hair on edge. It feels like if I spend too much time listening or if I get too close, I risk being pulled inside the mist, lost forever to whatever lurks within.
This makes me quickly look away from the mist and focus on Blake and Dakota as I have us all get a bit closer. As close as possible without waking her. I try not to look at the mist as that is what caused the laughter, but as I stare at the resting Dakota, the laughter returns.
Disembodied cackles creep down my spine and make me look around, but the second I do so, they disappear. I get a thought at this point as I whip my head back and forth.
Do these things appear when you focus on something for too long?
Gingerly, I test this theory as I stare at Blake’s sleeping face, and start counting.
One, two, three, four... fifty-six, fifty-se–!
I make it to fifty-seven before the laughter from nowhere returns, and I immediately pull my focus from her face, searching for whatever is causing this. The thing is that, once again as I look away, the sounds abruptly fade.
Confidence in my idea grows as I test it once more. I feel like I looked into the mist and at Dakota far longer than Blake, however, so I try it at her once more. I restart the count right when my eyes turn to her.
One, two, three, four… thirty-two, thirty–!
A shriek of laughter seemingly from above rips me from watching Blake as I rip my head upwards with a heartbeat that instantly doubles in speed. But again, it disappears without a trace the second I lose focus.
My theory seems to be both proven true and worse than it was at first. The time is decreasing every time it happens. I can only imagine that hearing these laughs for long periods of time is not good for you. They give me a similar feel to the Bloody Palm’s whispers, only less directly antagonistic and more accidentally dangerous. Like a creature from a different dimension that wants to have fun, trying to reach whoever is here, only that its presence alone is hard to stand.
I curl up into a little ball with a sleeping Dakota in my arms as I constantly change my focus. How did these two fall asleep? Am I the only one hearing these things? No way. I’m not crazy.
Am I crazy? No. Something has to be going on here. Is it the mist? Is it getting into us slowly? Or it is the Ether in the air?
Normally the natural Ether in the air is invisible unless moved drastically like an extremely fast gust of wind that leaves behind a slight trail. But if I use Chain Eyes, I can roughly see aerial Ether. Ether flows into my eyes and gives me sight, and what I see makes me gasp.
The mist and the area around me are covered with swirling colors of Ether. Every single strand has a different feel and color like it’s from a completely different source. Like it’s all from a different realm. It is all so… supernatural even in its dangerous splendor.
I make a mistake, however, and that is my looking at it for too long as laughs, giggles, and chuckles from some unknown entities reach my ears. I rapidly shift my focus and cut off the sight so that I don’t make the same mistake. At this point, the laughs last a second or so even after I change my focus, and they leave behind a ringing in my head. One that causes a slight burgeoning pain in my temples.
After that episode, I go completely still and constantly distract myself with everything I can think of. It's just that the only thing I have to distract myself besides falling asleep is the book from the First, so I start off by reading short bits from a random page in the First’s book. Then, whenever I get through a passage, I go looking around like a madman before returning to the words. My interest is quickly peaked as the First speaks about Absolutions, something I’ve known very little about for a long time.
I have been asked many times what a Power is by those at the forefront. Power. A curious thing, indeed. I do not talk about the concept. I talk about the true thing. These are Absolutions given substance. Before one becomes a 7th Sigil, a Power, or an Angel, however one classifies it, their Absolution, should they have one, is weak and unrefined. Only when they take the first step toward Godhood do they gain true power. Hence, Power.
My eyes scour the mist for a moment before returning to the page as my interest in Angels reaches a peak.
No Power will be the same, which is the skill given from an Absolution. They are all unique, and terrifying in their own right. Even two of the same exact Sigils will have different Powers bestowed. Mine? Well… mine lets me even the scales. That’s all I say. From long-distance instant travel to seeing the future, almost any Power can exist. The only restriction is the price one must pay, and that the Power be based on a Sigil that you resonate highly with, hence the Absolution you would have gained.
Once more I switch my attention as my mind drifts to what Strugglers Gasp might become in the future. It says the version before becoming a 7th Sigil is unrefined. But has the skill not already been refined? Maybe it’s unique because I got it so early compared to most, but I’m not sure.
Above a Power on the second step of Godhood, is a Virtue. These are the gifts from a second Absolution. Virtues enhance a core part of a person, something that once again, is unique. No two people are ever exactly the same, and neither will their Virtue be. For my safety, I will not reveal whether I have one. You never should either. Virtues can sometimes be hard to notice, but they are far more powerful than the Power that comes before them if used properly.
My eyes are ripped off the page as I feel something coming near in my subconscious mind. I think I’m getting the feel of sensing whatever this laughing thing is. I spend a short moment looking around like a madman before returning to the last two paragraphs on the small page. I grow too engrossed and read as fast as I can so as to not be caught by the Laughing Reeds.
And lastly, or at least the last part of the road to Godhood I know, is a Dominion. I believe these are also the gifts of a third Absolution, but they very well might be the innate powers of a 9th Sigil. I truthfully know very little about this stage other than that a Dominion allows you to control some aspect of your Sigil without any Ether. One gains a Dominion over something. I’m unsure as to the limitations of such a thing, but I figure they are powerful even with them.
I have said this many times, and I’ll say it once more in this book. Your Sigil is the foundation of your powers. Your skills are your hands, legs, and fingers. Your Absolutions, however, are extensions of your soul. The parts that shine so brightly, they give you abilities that can shake the earth. They are unpredictable and unique. They are humans proving to themselves and the world that we deserve to live. They are our records that we were here, the actions of those who accomplish one etched into the fabric of reality. Any can achieve one, but only we, the weak, the woeful, the hopeful, have the advantage in acquiring them.
In the darkest dark, seek Absolution, and within, hope may still lie for an early sunrise.
I barely pull my eyes away from the text fast enough to not be touched by the mist as I feel something come very close to me. Immediately, I regret getting that close to the laughs, but the First's words are the only time someone has been able to tell me what Absolutions actually are. The Hunter Manuals were vague, and no one else really had a straight answer.
And I mean, the First’s wasn’t entirely straight, but it was understandable. Absolutions are abilities taken from future Sigils that one resonates with. They are us proving to the world that we deserve to live in some way. I don’t know how all that works, but the experience sounds about right.
His words also give me an idea as to what my future might entail. Strugglers Gasp will certainly become my Power should I ever reach 7th Sigil, but I can only wonder as to what my Virtue will be. Or how they even really work. Dominions are even more confusing, though. How can you use your Sigil without Ether? How does that work? I don’t know, but I’m forced to change focus again before the giggles return.
As I do so, though, I accidentally wake Blake up with my abrupt movement, and she sits up instantly, wide-eyed, and shaking. I turn to her quickly and apologize. But she just stares down into the water below.
‘Sorry I woke you up… Are you good?”
She doesn’t reply to me. Her eyes just stay completely focused on the murky water. For far too long.
