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2021-11-08
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Binding

Summary:

Directly controlling the Alpha Rune was a fool's errand. It sat, a mark, a blemish, on the history of Ledgerdomain, interwoven tightly to its existence, the true name of magic itself tuned into reality. Its power burned like fire, turning sanity and reason to ash as it grew from sparks to a roaring blaze — as Hex was so keenly aware.

The Alpha Rune has a creator, and Hex is determined to use them.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Directly controlling the Alpha Rune was a fool's errand. It sat, a mark, a blemish, on the history of Ledgerdomain, interwoven tightly to its existence, the true name of magic itself tuned into reality. Its power burned like fire, turning sanity and reason to ash as it grew from sparks to a roaring blaze — as Hex was so keenly aware. 

He knew better than to repeat the same mistakes of those power-hungry mages that descended into gluttony. He was better than that. Better than them .

Yet he still needed its abhorrent power.

There was a caveat, a loophole that none but the most studied mages were aware of; the Alpha Rune’s true nature. 

It had existed since the beginning of Ledgerdomain. It was a mere myth until it was rediscovered and misused. It was artificial. 

And whatever made it — the beast that tore apart the infinite chaos and bound it to a word at the birth of this universe — had a means of control. Shape. That was the sigil laid across in front of Hex, spilling over every inch of the cavern. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, every surface had criss-crossing lines and runes etched to pinpoint perfection. Form. The Staff of Ages was poised upon the activation point, ready to complete the circuit and begin the process of summoning and binding the Alpha Rune’s creator. Focus.

He knew that everything was perfect; his sigilwork, his incantations, the artifacts of power collected. He dared not think of what would happen if it were not. He sacrificed too much to learn of how the Alpha Rune was made, to unearth this spell in a temple forgotten by time itself. 

"Abri Quis Charolybe Quanti Convocantis via Vacuus Ligant Inanii Papilionem Returnum est Initium Doloros Eventuum!"

Bright cyan washed over the cavern as the lines pulsed to life. Red and magenta bolted in after. There was an insistent tugging on Hex’s skin, and clothes, and mana, and he was reminded of a gaping maw. A swirl of colours rose from the magic circle, lazily gathering at the center as a stone artifact rose, and rose, and rose. 

Until its eyes opened, covering the stone in something visceral that Hex couldn’t quite understand.

He was calling infinity, and infinity was calling back.

Hex was suddenly aware of the cave’s floor; dirt and grit over smooth stone eroded by a mana sea that had not existed for thousands of years. It was rough against his face, and he dimly thought to heal the scratches later. 

There was barely an ounce of energy in all of his limbs as he dragged his body up from the ground, instincts telling him to get up, to run, to get away while his body lagged behind.

He wasn't dead, he thought, even though he was casting one second and on the ground the next. That was mostly a good sign.

Ribbons of blue and red stretched taught from the spell circle to the summoned creature, wrapping around its limbs (two arms and two legs, a basic humanoid shape) before sinking into its form. 

One last push...

"Furia Quis!"

It snapped into existence; a gold-trimmed white coat fluttering in the whipping, frenzied mana, a circle of magic forming on its neck and binding it to him as it fell to the ground, sealed. What was in front of him was… mostly fabric over a humanoid shape, inelegantly flopped in the cave. 

Hex stayed back at first, but the form wasn't moving from its spot. It was likely reeling from the sudden loss of mana and the spell to shackle it to his will. 

Good, the magical restraints were working.

When Hex drew closer, its features became more apparent. It was wearing something no proper mage — at least, not Hex — would be caught dead in. The strange coat, goggles, an ascot, a vest, knee and elbow pads… a bizarre mismatched style. A staff laid near its metallic hand. Its head was uncovered, showing a face like an older human and greying hair. Long face, sharp nose. A male, it seemed. One that was finally waking up.

"Hm? Where..." The man groggily looked around a bit before seeing the reagents and then turning to Hex, eyes alighting. "Oh! Congratulations. I didn’t think that anyone would actually summon me, given the exorbitant summoning costs… and the dungeons I made were simply top-notch… but you had your reasons, right?”

Yes, but Hex was not going to give that reason to a bound summon. That was just asking for it to find a loophole in the contract and claim the summoner's life.

Even if the Alpha Rune-binding thing was in the form of a normal, if garishly dressed, human. 

… Certainly not something that would hold infinite magical power. 

"Well?"

"Do not give orders to me, fiend."

"How rude. But I'll overlook that! Now, what do you want me to do?"

Hex frowned. This was… not what he expected: a cordial chat with an absentminded old man. Could he have failed? No, he would have been killed. 

Although it wouldn't hurt to check.

"Do not lie to me. Tell me if you made the Alpha Rune."

The other frowned. "I did. Now, what else do you want to do?"

He was expecting more smug gloating. "Can you make more?"

"I can. Do you want me to?"

He felt the wood of his staff dig into his palms. Nonchalant, matter-of-fact answers, essentially admitting to being one of the strongest mages in existence with the casual, slightly-bored tone of greeting an acquaintance. 

If this was a ploy to get Hex to let down his guard, he wasn't falling for it. The staff remained steady in his hand, ready to unleash his power against him.

"Your magic is mine, beast. I know you, and the power you wield."

" Magical power…?" He seemed to think, pondering over the claim of magic prowress. For much too long, Hex thought. "Indeed..."

"You are the Alpha Rune's creator, and you still don't consider yourself a magical genius? What skills would you have, if not magic?"

The other looked at him with a blank expression, slightly confused, as if he was unused to someone questioning him with such fervour. But that expression quickly changed to realization, then amusement. 

"I suppose in a sense, I am. Ever since I created that rune, I stopped being able to lie." 

"I hardly see why that makes you anywhere near a powerful mage." 

"Oh, no no no," the man shook his head, growing sheepish at how much he had to explain. "I worded it incorrectly. Perhaps this would be easier to understand: everything I say is the truth." 

Hex glared at him, unamused, the Staff of Ages trained right to his center. 

"Ah, I knew it would lead to this. An example shouldn't be too difficult to create..." He tapped his chin with the false arm, as if thinking of something suitable, not being held at staffpoint and bound with the strongest mental restraints Hex could muster. "Well, here — 

[ — we're aboveground. ] 

And they were. 

No shape, no form, no focus — just will. Pure, horrible, exalted will, forcing itself on the universe and burning a path to the result that existed, and has always existed. 

A kind of magic that could only be done by someone with complete and utter confidence that their word was stronger than the fabric of reality itself. 

A sort of unthinking power that made Hex's blood run cold. 

It hurt. Everything inside of him felt like it was turning. There were never ruins here, despite Hex's memories screaming at him otherwise. They were never underground. It was day, and Hex had entered the lush grove in the daytime. The pond was still. Reflected off of it were the sun's rays. The summoned thing sat on a particularly large rock, tilting his head innocently as he watched Hex pale in comprehension, his arm shaking as he gripped the staff tighter. 

"You could have said that I was dead." 

"I could have, yes!" He smiled, and clapped his hands together, and spoke in a tone that reminded Hex of mages praising students for learning their first spell, back in Ledgerdomain. "And you would have been dead, one way or another. Your brain smeared into the earth, pure mana streaking through your organs, every atom that makes you you breaking down into nothingness. I could have spoken pure death into your body. So many different ways to efficiently separate soul from flesh! And all of them are dreadfully boring." 

He paused, waiting for Hex to reply. And when Hex didn't, his body rooted in place, mind running in useless circles as it refused to come up with anything to say, the thing simply stood up and disappeared.

"I only have three names. Many know me as the Timewalker. You may call me Professor Paradox." And he — Paradox — was suddenly beside him, tapping the staff down with a soft touch of his fingers, playful eyes locking with his. "Let's have fun together, Hex!" 

It was at that moment that Hex fully understood what sort of awful power would be behind binding the true name of magic.

Notes:

I'm feeling it. Paradox did canonically make it and the storyline implications of that are fun as hell