Chapter 4 - Resonate

Natlan

How do you take phlogiston and turn it into an inscription?

Yaquica was pondering it today, as he had been doing for weeks.

With no clear answer in sight.

Somehow, the Dragonlords took phlogiston, put what must have been thousands of commands into it, and created wondrous things, ranging from Secret Source Automatons to Spirit Ways.

Iridescent Inscriptions had no weight, floated without any external force, did a million things at once, and any attempts to damage them simply did not work, for they also were intangible.

Like light.

“Hey, work’s over; close up shop and get going.” His warden warned him, and Yaquica sighed, doing so without a word as he was not in the mood for their usual shenanigans.

Since their homes were close by, the two walked on the same road, but not together.

No doubt tomorrow would be the same, with no progress.

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“There is a problem in the assembly line; you need to take a look at it.” Xilonen came into his workshop early the next day, and Yaquica nodded; at least it would be a nice distraction.

The young Nanatzcayan was carrying boxes that were taller than her, and for a second Yaquica considered offering to help, though that faded as the boxes began to wobble.

He chuckled when Xilonen tried to catch one of the boxes and ended up slipping on something, accidentally throwing the boxes in the air.

Yaquica began to snicker before one of the boxes fell on the other, smashing it, and the can inside it too, which covered him with black grease.

This time, it was Xilonen who was laughing, and Yaquica’s eye twitched as he leaped at her.

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The two sat in the infirmary while the healers tended to their wounds.

Yaquica had a swollen black eye that was closed shut, and his clothes were in tatters, while Xilonen’s tail was bruised, and one arm was in a sling. Not to mention the grease covering them, which would take a lot of scrubbing to get out.

“You are lucky they stopped me before I folded you in half.” Xilonen growled, hiding a wince as she jostled her arm.

Yaquica scoffed, causing the burn in his eye to intensify. “You couldn’t fold anything larger than laundry.”

The two butted foreheads, like beasts sizing each other up. “You want round two?” Xilonen asked, ready to fight again, even if it was with one arm.

Yaquica wasn’t the type to back off and doubled down on. “Let’s go then; we’ll see if you can back that up.”

“Children, enough. You two make mountains out of molehills.” Ixaya the healer warned them, and Yaquica rolled his good eye, with both sides backing off.

The idiom and the word fold just resonated in his head, and Yaquica leaped to his feet, pacing in the infirmary as idea after idea cluttered his mind.

“What are you doing?” Yaquica shushed Xilonen rather than answering, continuing to mutter to himself, and finally stopped.

“I found it.”

Ignoring the healer's calls to come back and have his wound tended, Yaquica rushed to his workshop to write down his ideas before he forgot something.

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Stadium of the Ancient Flame

Speaker’s Chamber

“You think you figured out how the Dragonlords made Iridescent Inscriptions?” Mavuika asked as Yaquica just barged inside the Chamber, interrupting the meeting between her and the chiefs.

“Yes.”

“Explain.”

Yaquica held up a folded piece of paper before beginning to unfold it. “Okay, so, think of this folded-up paper as a spark, the smallest unit of phlogiston. What the Dragonlords did was to basically unfold the dimensions of a spark, making it hundreds, maybe thousands, of times larger. That way, they could inscribe as many commands on it as they want and just fold it back, and in the end, you have an inscription that could do a lot of things at once.”

“And how is that going to help us?” Acatl, chief of the Collective of Plenty, asked, wondering if this matter was important enough for this meeting to be interrupted like that.

Yaquica stopped for a moment, thinking. “Uh, we can make our own Secret Source Automatons, our own spirit ways, anything the Dragonlords ever made, and didn’t have the time to do.” He explained, and the chiefs began to understand how valuable Yaquica’s research could be, as the remnants of the technological wonders of the Dragonlords worked even to this day and were far more advanced than anything Natlan could produce.

“How would you even unfold the dimensions of a spark?” Chief Briam of the Masters of the Night— Wind was the one more familiar with ancient history, and his tribe did have expertise on creating pocket dimensions, but unfolding dimensions was not something he had heard of before.

The young boy held out the spark in his hand. “Sparks should react to something specific, most likely a form of energy, but I am not exactly sure what it could be.”

“Could you find a way to do it?” Mavuika had a plan to defeat the Abyss, one that had its foundations laid five hundred years ago, but if the feats of the Dragonlords could be replicated, or even surpassed, Natlan would be safer than it ever was, even should she fail.

“Eventually, I think.” He came this far, and Yaquica wasn’t going to give up.

“We can all agree that even just figuring out how to make Spiritways would be of tremendous boost to Natlan’s capabilities in fighting against the Abyss. Yaquica should start working on it immediately.” Minaru of the People of the Springs, the oldest of the chiefs and the one whose tribe made frequent use of the Spiritways, imagined all the tribes connected to one another through the ancient sky roads left by the Dragonlords.

That alone would be worth supporting the young boy’s research.

The remaining chiefs nodded, all in agreement, for Secret Source Automatons, when they emerged at least, proved to be the second troublesome hurdle the tribes faced.

Constructing their own automatons and using them against the Abyss? Even the proud warriors of Natlan wouldn’t oppose the idea.

Mavuika nodded, knowing even five hundred years into the future, an occasion like this would be quite a novelty. “Well, it is rare for all chiefs to agree on a matter without any opposition like this, and I agree. Yaquica, your next job is to figure out how to unfold the dimensions of a spark, as you said. To that end, all tribe members will assist you, as long as it is relevant to your research.”

“I’ll start working on it immediately, boss.” Yaquica didn’t even wait to be dismissed before running out of the room.

“Very bright kid, now if only he would stop fighting Xilonen like that.” Pacal sighed, having heard how the two fought like territorial Saurians.

“Fight is in our blood; let them do it, but in a more official setting.” If Yaquica and Xilonen’s aggression towards each other cannot be curbed, controlling them would be the next best choice.

“Yes, Archon.”

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Yaquica may have a theory on how the Dragonlords created Iridescent Inscriptions, but that didn’t mean all the answers were available to him now.

He tried many methods to unfold the dimensions of a spark, with no results. He blasted it with different elements, and all of them at once; he even created an elaborate chamber with gravitational engravings all around it to basically rip the spark apart.

It didn’t succeed, and he ended up creating a small black hole that collapsed the building around it before dispelling in a violent explosion.

Thankfully it was built away from the tribe, and no one was hurt.

So here he was, two months after his meeting with the Pyro Archon and the Chiefs, sitting in his workshop and trying one last method.

If the people of Natlan had an intuitive understanding of how Iridescent Inscriptions affected phlogiston, then who was to say they couldn’t do more than that?

Sitting in a relaxed position, he focused on the spark in front of him, using some of the techniques he read up on while studying with the Masters of the Night-Wind.

Xilonen was keeping an eye out in case something happened, and the only reason he asked for her help was that she was closer and understood more about how engravings worked than anyone else their age.

And adults were busy.

Minutes slowly turned into hours, and Yaquica ignored his numbing legs, completely focused on succeeding.

“No way.”

Xilonen’s words snapped him out, and Yaquica leaped to his feet, stumbling before turning to his peer. “What? What happened?”

“The spark wobbled, as if something was trying to burst out of it.” She pointed at the spark, actually surprised that it had even worked.

“Yes!” Yaquica pumped his fist.

He was on the right track!

The red-haired boy was so elated, he didn’t even realize he was hugging Xilonen in his joy before dashing out of the door, while the young girl contemplated breaking something on Yaquica’s head for hugging her.

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Masters of the Night-Wind

“So you figured out a way to actually do it?” Chief Biram had personally greeted Yaquica upon hearing he succeeded in his task.

Yaquica nodded, still grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, but I need the help of a shaman, preferably the best one you have.”

“Best one? That would be Elder Itztli, but whether she would agree to help is another matter.” Owing to just how old she was, even the Archons rarely tasked Citlali with anything but matters of grave importance, though this might just be it.

“It’s the Archon’s order, isn’t it?” Everyone knew of Granny Citlali’s reputation as a hermit, but not many knew more than that.

“Yes, but she is a special case. Regardless, let us go and talk to her.”

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Biram knocked on the door gently. “Elder Itztli, we seek your help on an important matter.” 

A couple minutes later the door slammed open, and the Great Shaman Citlali stepped out.

The smell of alcohol almost made his eyes water.

The chief bowed his head as a sign of respect. “Elder Itztli, there is a matter that requires your expertise.”

Citlali just nodded and yawned, looking as if she just woke up, even though it was well into the afternoon. “Be quick about it, Biram.”

Gesturing to Yaquica, Biram explained the situation. “The Archon has entrusted young Yaquica with a task of great importance, and your assistance may prove invaluable.”

The Great Shaman leaned down to take a closer look at Yaquica. “The kid? A special task from Mavuika? This I have to hear.”

Explaining his theory and discovery to Citlali earned Yaquica a hit on the head with a pillow.

“You idiot. Do you know how dangerous going into a trance is?” She warned, her familiars floating around, agitated.

“I didn’t go into a trance exactly, just resonated my soul with the spark, more like.” If he actually managed to go into a trance, his soul would most likely be lost by now.

She just crossed her arms, not impressed. “Hmph, so be it. What do you need from me?”

“I barely could get the spark to wobble; you, however, should be able to do what I was trying to do with your experience.” Yaqu didn’t know if buttering her up would work, though from her stare, it didn’t seem to have.

“Alright, I’ll admit to being interested. Let’s go.”

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They chose an isolated and silent spot to conduct the experiment. Yaquica put the spark on a pedestal, and Citlali held out her hand.

As a testament to her mastery in the shamanic arts of the Masters of the Night-Wind, the spark began to wobble and bulge, and soon enough, the world around them was bathed with a light orange glow as the spark expanded.

And expanded.

And expanded.

And expanded.

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In that moment, everyone noticed the light orange glow covering the skies of Natlan, though, seeing as there were no alarms of Abyss attack, the people just stood to watch.