(9) Veilpiercer

Nephthys stood—floated—next to the throne, her back to the audience hall as the Nemesis members filed out, off to tend to whatever tasks they had been assigned. She had turned around at first because it seemed ruler-like, but now she stared at the enormous crystal beyond, her brows furrowed.

Prelude lacked any ‘inspect’ system, skill, or spell. Relevant details about items were simply displayed in a tooltip, either when viewed in one’s inventory or as a floating text box above them in the world. Things like enemy health bars, level, item effects, enchantments, and any details a player might desire were shown this way.

Obviously, something like that would not transfer into reality. Nephthys was actually grateful, as she did not relish the idea of text boxes cluttering her real, actual vision. That said, she occasionally received jolts of information when examining something. When glancing at the throne, for example, she received a burst of knowledge, somewhere between a memory recalled and an information injection straight into her brain.

[Throne of Vengeance:

Bane of Betrayal]

[One of several central access points for guild control functions, accessible only by: Guild Master Nephthys]

Nephthys did not recall ever naming the throne or writing flavor text, but she supposed it fit, considering the theme and Nemesis’s Greak inspiration. The most useful information was that she could access ‘control functions’ for the guild. This gave her hope that some of the functionality that guilds were granted in Prelude was still accessible now that it was reality, even if there would not be a convenient menu to navigate through.

The throne was not what she was concerned about, however. She was mildly curious about how the information was being loaded into her brain, whether it was injected directly or a combination of her memories of the game and this game-like system that seemed to guide reality in this world.

That curiosity was only burning in the back of her mind. What was currently occupying her attention was the titanic crystal speared into the planet. In Prelude, it was a legendary artifact: the meteor that brought civilization to an end. However, it was just background lore. There was nothing displayed about it when observed, just as there was no text box that popped up when one looked at a mountain. It was just part of the landscape.

Now, it had a name.

[Veilpiercer]

That was all. Just a name. The fact that it was named did not surprise her. It was an artifact that caused the literal end of civilization. It would be stranger if it had no name. What unsettled her was that it sounded like the name of a weapon.

“Ramose,” Nephthys spoke into the silence.

“Yes, my lady,” Ramose replied.

He alone had remained in the hall, though she was not sure why. Perhaps that was what an overseer does?

“What do you see?” she asked, gesturing out into the magma bowl.

Ramose cocked his head to the side, striding up to stand next to Nephthys and looking out into the bowl.

“The impact point of the Skyfade event, I believe. Was there something specific you were referring to, madam?” he asked.

“You see the impact crater, but nothing else? No names?” she asked cryptically.

“No, my lady,” he responded.

A brief silence passed between them, only the occasional pop from a magma bubble popping below breaking it.

“Veilpiercer,” Nephthys said simply.

That got Ramose’s attention, though he was annoyingly professional. A slight widening of his eyes was the only indicator that he was off-balance.

“This means something to you?” Nephthys questioned.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

“Not the name itself, my lady, but its individual words do,” he replied, equally cryptic.

“Elaborate,” she ordered, turning to face him.

With an etiquette technique she believed was called ‘mirroring,’ Ramose faced her in turn, his hands behind his back, his professional candor restored.

“Devas and devis live closer to the boundaries of reality, my lady. There are things we are natively aware of but do not speak. The Veil is one such subject. It is a…how should I say…a membrane that separates worlds. That is as simply as I can describe it, for I do not understand much of it myself,” he said.

“Why do you not speak of things like the Veil?” Nephthys asked.