Asenane woke up to the gentle hum of the Praesit sliding through the rails of the Hidden Citadel. For a brief moment, she didn't remember where she was. The seats were too comfort. When shifted slightly, she heard the familiar crystalline ring of Calimostria being summoned.
Veneri stood a short distance away. Sapphire light gathered in his remaining hand, coalescing into the unmistakable form of his glaive. At the same time, matching sapphire material surged along his right side, crawling outward from his shoulder in imperfect layers.
A new arm made out of sapphire formed.
Asenane sat up slowly, watching in silence as he flexed the fingers experimentally. The arm moved but stiffly. He inhaled once, adjusted his stance and then brought both hands up to grip Calimostria properly.
The moment he did, the sapphire arm shattered.
Fractures emerged instantly from the shoulder down to the fingertips before the entire construct collapsed into glittering shards that evaporated into light before they even hit the floor. Calimostria vanished with a soft chime right after. It was dismissed the instant his grip failed.
Veneri exhaled sharply and dragged his remaining hand down his face.
"Too weak. I knew it. Can't force it. And I'm not forging a proper one until I let my father-in-law do it. Last thing I need is a catastrophic failure mid-cast."
Asenane cleared her throat softly. His posture changed immediately. The irritation drained from his expression the second he saw her awake. His voice followed suit, losing its edge.
"Hey. Didn't mean to wake you."
She blinked at him, then glanced at the empty space where his right arm should've been.
"Are you okay?"
He didn't hesitate. "No."
He walked back toward the seats and leaned against one, visibly favoring his left side.
"I can make a bionic arm using Sapphire Materialization but unlike the one you made for me, this thing's basically on life support. I have to constantly feed it Soul Energy just to keep it functional."
"And weapon combat?"
"Not happening. The moment I put real stress on it," he gestured vaguely to where the arm had been, "it collapses. Which means, congratulations, I'm officially locked into being a mage for now."
She stared at him, then tilted her head.
"But when I made your arm, I just… made it. I didn't need to think about it that hard."
"Yeah, that's because you're terrifying."
She gave him a look.
"I mean that affectionately," he added quickly, smiling a little. "But that's kind of my point. About that, let me ask you something. How do you think I use Body Reconstruction so easily?"
"You… use it?"
He laughed under his breath. "That's what everyone thinks. It looks simple, right? I touch someone, energy flows, wound closes. To most people, it's just healing. Regeneration. A fancy patch job. However, that's not what it is. I don't have healing. I have Body and Soul Reconstruction. Literally."
Asenane went still.
"When someone loses an arm, I don't grow a new one. I reconstruct it using the soul as the blueprint. Every being's soul contains the complete informational structure of their body. Healing copies that structure and recreates the damaged flesh. That's why healing works. Flesh doesn't remember itself. The soul does."
"Then your arm…"
"In the fight against Permafrost's Grasp, I didn't just lose my arm. I sacrificed the flesh and the portion of my soul that defined it. I converted it into raw Soul Energy so I could keep fighting for days continuously. My soul doesn't have a right arm anymore so there's nothing for Body Reconstruction to reference. There's no blueprint."
"..."
"Soul damage is rare and almost unheard of. Souls are incorporeal, resilient and self-correcting. But, the Aeterium deal directly with the soul which means we're also one of the few races capable of harming our own or that of others."
Asenane looked at him for a long moment before asking softly, "Then how do you reconstruct others so easily?"
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Because I cheat. Aeterium aren't just born with this ability. We're trained. From the moment we can comprehend diagrams, we study anatomy of everything in Spheraphase. Things with organs, things without, things whose organs don't exist until observed, all of them. Muscle fibers, energy conduits, bone lattices, soul anchors, nerve equivalents, alternate circulatory systems, I can go on and still take an hour or more to elaborate. Healing isn't waving your hands and hoping it works. If a healer doesn't know what they're fixing, they either fail or they kill the patient."
Asenane nodded slowly.
"That's why healers train so long. They memorize structure so they can recognize deviation. Healing doesn't decide what's correct. The caster does. Get it wrong and the spell or power faithfully recreates the mistake. Which is why people think I'm effortless at it. I'm not faster. I'm just prepared."
She exhaled softly. "That actually makes sense."
He leaned back against the seat again.
"Same principle applies to Runecraft. People think it's weak because you don't see it in battle but that's because it's dangerous."
"Because it needs concentration. I remember you teaching me that."
"Extreme concentration," he corrected. "Runes aren't spells. They're instructions written into reality. If you're interrupted halfway through, the backlash doesn't care how strong you are. It deletes you."
She winced. "So you can't use it mid-fight."
"Exactly. There is no room for error. That's why it's used before battles, after battles, or completely outside of them. People disregard it because it's not flashy."
Veneri exhaled slowly and lifted his left hand again after he sat next to Asenane. Sapphire light flowed outward, assembling itself into a crystalline limb piece by piece, each segment locking into the next with a soft, harmonic chime. The arm wasn't an imitation of flesh or metal. It was crystal, translucent and deep blue with veins of lighter sapphire running through.
Before attaching it fully, he raised his other hand and began to write not in the air but directly onto the arm.
Runes bloomed beneath his fingertips, etched in glowing lines that sank into the crystal. Each rune vanished the moment it finished embedding. When he finally let the arm settle into place, it clicked. He flexed his fingers. This time, nothing shattered. The arm responded smoothly, moving as naturally as if it had always been there. He rolled his shoulder once, then twice, then gave a small nod to himself.
"Okay. That will do."
He turned just in time to see Asenane staring at him with wide eyes. Before she could say anything, he got closer and, without a single shred of hesitation, reached out with the new arm and gently patted her head. His fingers brushed along the base of her horns, slipping just slightly into her hair the way he knew she liked.
Her tail twitched.
She swallowed, straightened her posture, and—against every instinct she spent millennia cultivating—spoke boldly, taking Phaenora's advice.
"Veneri, I want to spend time with you. Alone."
He stopped patting her head.
That… was not something he expected. Asenane was gentle, reserved and always careful not to impose.
"I came to the Hidden Citadel with you because I wanted some time together and I don't want to let it pass."
For a moment, he just stared at her.
"Oh. Yeah. Sure."
Her eyes lit up immediately.
"Then it's a date," she declared, clearly proud of herself.
He chuckled under his breath. "Guess it is."
Sometimes—often, really—Veneri forgot that Asenane was several millennia old. She didn't lack wisdom or presence but the way she experienced things with him was so painfully new. This wasn't her first relationship, but it was her first love. Her past marriage to the Frozen God had been political. Shimmer's existence had been born from circumstance and tragedy, not intimacy. What she had now was uncharted territory.
"Hey. Are you… happy with your new life?"
She answered immediately. "Yes."
Then he asked the question that made her expression change.
"What was your life like in Dimensium? I mean, as a Phantasm for the Krepsunas?"
Her gaze drifted away just enough for him to notice. Memories filled her mind but she pushed them back down with ease.
"Hey, you don't have to—"
"No. You don't need to avoid it for my sake. I… want to tell you. Just not yet."
He nodded without hesitation. "That's fine."
"Just like that?"
He shrugged lightly. "I'm not in a rush."
That seemed to catch her off guard more than anything else.
"How can you be so calm with someone like me? I had a husband. I have a child."
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he reached out, cupped her cheeks gently in both hands and leaned in just enough that she couldn't look away.
"Asenane, you might be older than me by a few thousand years, but to me? You're a cute, mature woman who just wants head pats and hugs."
She opened her mouth, clearly ready to protest but he pulled her into a gentle embrace with one arm wrapping around her shoulders as his hand returned to her head, patting slowly. His fingers brushed her horns with care.
"I don't... I don't like this."
Her dragon tail betrayed her immediately, wagging lazily behind her.
"Yeah. Sure."
Her body relaxed against him before she could stop it.
"You should keep sleeping. Your temperature's still high from dragon fever. I won't use a Sleep Rune."
"I'm fine," she tried to argue, though her voice was already softer. "I don't need—"
Her resistance melted as the sensation settled in. He wasn't using a Sleep Rune but she felt drowsy. It didn't take long before she fell asleep once again. Veneri exhaled slowly, careful not to wake her, and rested his chin lightly against her head.
"I really used all my Soul Energy just to restore that arm. I've got more than seven pseudo-cores. Why does it still feel like I'm running on fumes?"
What he didn't realize was that what he had just done—creating a fully functional bionic arm without a soul blueprint, stabilized entirely through rune logic and materialized will—was something that would have drained even high-tier entities dry.
He just thought it was normal but it was close to impossible.