When Arthur next opened his eyes, he was surrounded by darkness in all directions. There wasn't a single light in sight, his vision obscured and useless. He blinked a few times.

  His mind was dazed and his thoughts scattered. He couldn't focus properly, no matter how hard he tried, making it hard to figure out the exact situation he found himself in. Fragments of memories, from moments prior, showed themselves to him.

  Instinctively, he patted down his own body, checking for any crystal shards still stuck in his body. Sighing a sigh of relief, there didn't seem to be any, though the spots where they most likely hit hurt.

  He looked down, and weirdly enough, he could see his own body. Despite the darkness, he could see every curve and every inch of his own skin. This didn't make sense, he could even see behind his own back?

  A faint light was spreading out from the core of his being. Like the gemstone which had put him in this state, bright beams were reaching out from the inner parts of his body to the surface of his skin, showing themselves as bright spots.

  And just like the gemstone was reaching out to his fingers, these strings of light, too, had specific locations in which they landed. One for each hand and foot, and one leading to his head.

  He felt warmth spreading out from those connections, propagating from the innermost parts of his body to his limbs and appendages. The temperature grew in intensity, but strangely, it remained a comfortable feeling.

  And as the heat grew, he could see those strings spreading, thinning themselves. Separating into a multitude of smaller, longer strings, taking residence in the entirety of his body, like a secondary circulatory system.

  That was the first time, since he had woken up that morning, that he could see his body. Now brightened by that inner glow, marks on his body of unknown purpose were made visible.

  Small canals, or cuts, not unlike a doll made of carved wood. Each and every one of his joints had one such incision, separating them from each other slightly. Only the inner parts of his body, the flesh, bone and muscle, seemed to be connected.

  On the surface, his skin was separated in every spot in which it could be tensed, or twisted. Like a flesh mockery of a marionette, the kind with accurate and movable joints.

  He shuddered. Seeing his own form in that manner, it made him feel uneasy. A feeling of watching something not quite human perpetrated in his viscera, seeing his own body felt disturbing. Perhaps it was just the manner in which he was looking at himself, from an outside perspective.

  The light's warmth was helping him steady himself, guiding his thoughts in an orderly manner. He took a moment to breathe in, to further his calm. The air bubbled up as it exited his nostrils, as if he was standing inside a liquid.

  Then, he looked down at his feet. There wasn't any ground to be standing on, but he didn't feel like he was falling. He didn't feel lke he was standing upright either, but he was sure he wasn't upside down.

  He remembered he read somewhere once, that humans can't feel ‘wetness’. When touching water, what they feel is the change in temperature and pressure, rather than how ‘wet’ what they're touching is.

  Which meant, if he was afloat in a liquid at a temperature similar to his body's own, with little to no pressure against his body, then it could be perfectly possible for him to be currently inside a liquid.

  But then, where was he?

  He stood thinking for a moment, trying to find any clue or evidence about his current location. Apart from the dim light emanating from his own body, the darkness still remained, shrouding everything.

  His surroundings were also extremely quiet, not even the air bubbling up making any sound. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but the liquid muffled it to an unintelligible amount. He clicked his tongue. That, too, was left unheard.

  A mysterious location, clad in complete darkness, where not a single sound could be heard. Afloat in equally mysterious liquid, where he could breathe perfectly fine in, but trying to find any direction was useless.

  At first, he thought that he may have been dreaming. But, he was much too conscious for this to be a dream. A lucid dream, then? He heard people who suddenly became lucid in dreams could completely control them.

  Extending his hand, he tried to visualize an apple appearing in it, but nothing of the sort happened. Safe to say, this wasn't a lucid dream, or a dream at all.

  Then, it was possible this was some sort of ‘magic’. He had witnessed it firsthand, and already accepted, that magic existed in that world he found himself in.

  Not to mention, the only reason he was in that state, was due to the Moonstone blowing up in his hand. Was it some side effect of the stone's magical properties, then? Pushing a finger into his temple, he tried to push out memories hidden in that body's mind, but nothing came up.

  He chuckled at himself. It was quite silly to just rule anything he couldn't explain as magic, but at the same time, that seemed the best explanation for what was currently happening. Suddenly, he felt a shiver run down his back.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Or rather, spread out from his core, and expand to the entirety of his body. Like the surface of a lake being disturbed, a ripple turning into many. He had felt something similar already, when he touched the gemstone's transparent surface.

  ‘Am I about to blow up?’ He shook his head. If he was lucid enough to crack jokes within his mind, he was lucid enough to use more brain power to explore this mysterious space.

  That shiver spread to his limbs, and up to his fingertips, creeping outwards. Those strings of light he had identified earlier, they were now pushing against the surface of his skin with no purpose, as if trying to break free.

  They were pointing towards the sky, if that was what was above Arthur. He lifted his head slightly, and immediately came to a halt. A sudden feeling of pure dread washed over his body and mind, telling him that if he lifted his head any higher, he'd see something he shouldn't ever witness.

  And yet, the light inside him was pushing upwards. He couldn't control his body's movement, and against his will, his eyes were now glancing upwards.

  In front of him, was now a room filled with white colours. Blank sheets covered his weakened body, stained red by the blood which had poured out from his wounds. A nightstand, beside him, had a filled cup of water.

  Right next to the bed was sitting a man he didn't recognize, looking at him attentively, perhaps waiting for him to wake up. Arthur blinked twice, confused. ‘What just happened?’

  “Woah there, kiddo. Howd'ya get them bleedin', too? Musta been one helluva blast, huh?”The man, with a thick accent, picked up a handkerchief which had been resting on the nightstand. Bringing it up to Arthur's face, he wiped away blood which was trickling down his eyes and nose.

  Arthur weakly raised his hand, his finger tracing below his eyes. From his tear ducts, droplets of liquid gently slid down his cheeks, drawing crimson lines on his face. He was bleeding from his eyes.

  No, rather, he was crying blood. He didn't know whether to be assured or feel worse about that. He wiped it completely away from his face, his vision, before blurry and stained red, now clear once again.

  “Where… Who are you…?” Arthur looked at the man with a confused and dazed expression. Was it really a dream, then? That dark space, and that feeling of sudden dread… And whatever he almost witnessed.

  [Clock. Darkness. Passing time. The moon. Water. Bloodstains. Crimson ripples. A constellation. An unending wait. A swinging pendulum. Twelve. Twenty two. The third.]

  As soon as he thought of that unknown element, his brain pulsed with pain, and more blood trickled down his nose. No, maybe he did witness it, but whatever ‘it’ was, was too dangerous for his brain to hold.

  If even just a memory of trying to look at ‘it’ caused him to bleed from his eyes and nose, he didn't dare think how the Arthur in that space felt, witnessing ‘it’ firsthand. He shivered for a moment, before shifting his focus.

  “Yer currently in the medical bay. Ya see, one of my beloved, foolish students had a li'l accident with a gemstone, and blew it up right in yer mug.” The man answered his question, with a wry smile on his face. He seemed friendly enough, but there was something unreadable about him.

  “Personally, I don't oft' come check on prisoners, but… That fool, ya see? She said somethin' good about ya. Ya cut that Moonstone even better than the directions the evaluator gave ya. ‘Said yer eyes got potential.

  “Then, of course, she said that ya handed her the stone, ‘n with her clumsy hands, mixed with the fragility of yer stone, she accidentally crushed it and blew ya up… ‘N I'm sure, that's how it went down, ‘cause my beloved student told me so.”Before Arthur could speak up, to correct him about the situation, the man winked at him, behind the tinted glasses he was wearing. His expression quickly changed to one of understanding, before nodding.

  That hooded girl sitting beside him had covered for his screw up, for some reason, and her mentor backed her up on it. He quickly connected those pieces of information.

  [He is a member of the prison staff. He is her mentor. Most likely, she is a cadet, and not a prisoner. Henceforth, prisoners could be punished for messing up in that manner. She had protected Arthur from being punished.]

  He looked away, trying to ignore ‘it’ for now, turning towards the man once again. “I see. I'll have to thank her when I get dismissed. I don't think my wounds are that bad…” He patted his own body, there were still shards stuck in his skin.

  “I think an introduction is in order. I'm Arthur… Arthur. Don't remember my last name. You said, er, she said something about my eyes, right?” The glasses-wearing man nodded.

  [Arthur's eyes bear an Innate Gift. The Gift of the Archivist.]

  “Yup. Well, in short… Do ya know how Moonstone evaluation works?” He produced a Moonstone from his pocket, probably smuggled from the facility.

  “Evaluators deem which parts need to be cut and which need to be kept, right?” The man nodded. “Exactly. ‘N that's not an easy process. More than that, if ya lack the talent for it, ya can't really learn how ta evaluate a Moonstone. It's all in yer eyes, ya understand?

  “Moonstones are incredible Ark conductors, ‘n more than that, there's theories that they got reserves of Archê in and o' themselves. Evaluators hafta recognize the li'l parts with impurities, of other minerals, or stuff like that, ta keep the best, most conductin' bits in the gem.”

  [The material commonly known as Moonstone is an extremely potent conductor of Ark. When the purity reaches an upper cap, the internally stored energy has a risk of being expelled in a forceful manner.]“I see… If you don't have an eye for detail, you wouldn't be able to be an evaluator, while also keeping the rhythm of a construction chain going.”“Nah, it's not jus' that. Ya gotta be half-Dipping ta see the Ley Lines properly, ‘n most people can't do it with their eyes open. Ya know, yer talents would be really appreciated as a cadet… Ya could even gain yerself freedom!”

  [Dipping refers to-]

  Arthur waved his hand frantically at the air, as if swatting a fly, perplexing the man.

  “As I was sayin'... Well, I'll let ya rest, fer now. I'll be back soon, before yer dismissed. If yer interested in workin' fer the Teiwesian Military, I wouldn't be opposed ta recommending you. Fer now… I'll see you.”The man got up, putting on a halved top hat which had been resting on his lap until now, before exiting the room.

  As if he had been holding his breath until now, Arthur let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment, with an exasperated expression. Then, he stared right in front of him. To anyone but him, that space was blank.

  “I’ve been trying to ignore you, but… What the hell are you?”In front of his eyes stood a floating, semi transparent slate. Light blue in colour, it was as thin as the page of a book. Words inked themselves into existence on the page's surface, talking to the boy which was observing it.

  [Greetings, Arthur… Luria.]

  [I am the Archive.]