[Nos eadem sumus. Solos sumus.]
[Am - F#dim - C - Gm]
The air around them crackled, thick with the oppressive weight of Judecca's icy prison. Every step Kokutō took felt as if the frozen ground beneath him pulsed with a quiet, malicious intent. The world here seemed to exhale with a low, constant hum that never ceased—a dirge echoing in time with the frostbitten landscape. There was no sky, no horizon, just the endless desolation of frozen wasteland stretching out in every direction, pierced only by skeletal structures looming like forgotten monuments.
As paths finally crossed and the banners of this infernal journey were hoisted, Aarowan turned to Kokutō with an unexpected question. The wind whispered cold secrets as Aarowan's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"Let us begin a new iter, Kokutō," Aarowan declared. His tone was measured, yet there was an undercurrent of something much darker. "First, an exercise of the mind: What is the concept of an objectum?"
Kokutō, still shaken from the labyrinth of his past memories, blinked in confusion. The question hung in the air, dense as the frozen mist swirling around them. He opened his mouth to answer, but Aarowan swiftly cut him off.
"Consider not how an objectum is defined," Aarowan continued, his voice like a teacher speaking to a wayward student, "but rather what it defines. Imagine civilization never existed. Before it rose from the dust, how did anything define itself? What is an objectum before it is observed?"
Kokutō frowned, his mind trying to wrap itself around the labyrinthine question. The biting cold of the air seemed to gnaw at his skin as though encouraging him to keep walking forward through this strange dialogue.
"The absence of observation... is that chaos?" Kokutō ventured, unsure.
Aarowan's laughter was soft, almost a caress against the biting wind. "Absence... chaos... these are mere words, but they represent truths beyond our limited understanding. For now, we shall call it chaos for your own safety. You see, when an objectum is observed, it becomes defined. But if it is not observed, it remains undefined—like a concept awaiting its birth."
The wind howled around them, carrying with it the faintest echoes of long-lost voices. The ice beneath their feet groaned in response, like the land itself was alive, writhing beneath the surface.
[Ad marginem inferni cultrorum pertinemus.]
[Dm - Bbdim - F - Cm]
Kokutō stared ahead, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Are you saying, then, that if I defined the vincula that once bound me as something else—something harmless, like cotton—they would transform into that?"
"Yes, confusing, isn't it?" Aarowan's voice was suddenly sharp, like the crack of a whip in the freezing air. "But the real question, Kokutō, is whether you could define it with enough precision for that transformation to occur. You lack the ars, I'm afraid. Still, it's a fascinating concept, is it not? One might even change the nomen of an objectum to alter its essence—like the very vincula that once held you."
They continued walking through the frozen wasteland, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the snow and ice. The silence was thick, broken only by Aarowan's cryptic musings.
"However," Aarowan went on, "no being, not even you, Kokutō, can commune with pure absence—chaos itself—without time. It takes centuries to change the very nature of something, to redefine it at its core."
[Sit fluvius inextinguibilis nigris flammis.]
[Gm - Edim - Bb - Fm]
The words echoed in Kokutō's mind, stirring something within him. "What are you doing to me?" he growled, his voice a mixture of frustration and curiosity. "What part of me are you slicing away?"
Aarowan chuckled, the sound like dry leaves being crushed underfoot. "I am not slicing, Kokutō. I am revealing. Tell me what you think of these words."
Aarowan bent down, picking up a small, nondescript stone from the frozen earth. He cradled it in his palm, murmuring quietly to himself before raising his voice. "Dark—Moon-Fang Heaven Piercer."
The stone disintegrated into a beam of black energy, lancing into the sky with a pressure that Kokutō recognized all too well. The sensation made his chest tighten. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Getsuga Tenshō!" Kokutō whispered, the very nomen of the attack sending a jolt of recognition through him. "How…?"
Before he could finish, a sharp pain ripped through his mouth, silencing him. He tried to scream but found he had no lips, no os at all. Aarowan's voice rang clear in the cold, relentless air.
"For one hour, you will remain silentium. Speak again, Kokutō, and it will be your last. My ears are delicate, and your noise is a nuisance."
[Sit carmen inextinguibile.]
[Cm - Abdim - Eb - Bm]
Kokutō's mind churned with questions, but he was forced to remain mute, his thoughts racing while Aarowan continued his monologue, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging inside Kokutō.
"By now, I suspect you understand at least a fraction of what I've been saying," Aarowan continued, walking casually as though the weight of Hell itself did not hang over them. "There are very few among us—perhaps nine or so—who can manipulate absence itself. I, too, am an exsul, an orphan of the great powers. My roots are unknown, even to me."
They passed through a grove of twisted, frozen trees. The skeletal branches creaked and groaned in the wind, creating a symphony of sounds like tortured souls begging for release.
"And that, Kokutō, is why I bring this up. We need to define something within you, something that will allow you to channel what I've shown you. And I believe it lies in your emotiones."
[Sit ibi fratres mei familiares mei, per caelos acidamur.]
[Fm - Dbdim - Gb - Cm]
Kokutō's eyes burned with frustration, his body trembling with the unexpressed emotions that surged within him. Aarowan turned to him, a grin curling his lips.
"There it is," Aarowan whispered, his voice lilting as though savoring a fine wine. "What emotiones control you, Kokutō? Rage, sorrow, fear? Or perhaps… love?"
The mention of amor made Kokutō flinch. "Ah, yes. I can see it in your eyes. The ties that bind you to your sister, the familial bonds that even this inferno cannot sever."
Aarowan twirled in place, his boots kicking up clouds of frozen dust. "Why not use those emotiones as your cornerstone? Define them as something new, something powerful. Let your amor become a weapon—one pure enough to corrupt the soul and spark untold rage."
[Sit ut picturae caeli sanguineis viscosis.]
[Bb - G#dim - D - Am]
As they continued their journey, the landscape grew even more surreal, the frozen world shifting subtly, as if alive and bending to their whims. Kokutō's mind raced, trying to process everything Aarowan had said. His lips ached to speak, to question, but the silence was his only companion.
After what felt like hours, Aarowan finally slowed his pace and turned to Kokutō with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Would you like to see what your 'friend,' your 'inimicus,' or perhaps your 'savior' is up to, Kokutō? Shall we observe?"
Kokutō stared at Aarowan, his body tense, waiting for the next move. The icy wind continued to howl through the twisted landscape, and the weight of the question hung heavily between them.
[Nos eadem sumus. Solos sumus.]
[Am - F#dim - C - Gm]