The Primordial Record

Deep down Rowan knew the only reason he was considering this matter this deeply was because of the present state of his consciousness.

If his consciousness had been complete, and his dimensional body fully realized then even the plight of countless trillions of mortals holding a mutated version of his bloodline would not even draw less than a smidgen of concern from him. Even though Rowan had never tampered with soul origin and so he understood that everyone he had killed still had many more reincarnations to look forward to, it was without a doubt that he had killed uncountable trillions in his life with no single hesitation.

The blood he had spilled in his lifetime could quench a trillion stars.

Yet the things he saw above the threshold had shaken him, the games being played with Ascendancy and Calamity by a higher power, and his understanding that no matter the sacrifices made in this battle, whether it be mere mortals or immortal Ascendants, it was all useless.

Millions of years of war and suffering and in the end, they were all forsaken, all of them one part of a long line of suffering that stretched deep into antiquity. Rowan had seen the souls locked in this realm, every cycle was one of endless suffering, in this cycle it was Ascendancy and Calamity, and after this cycle, a new one would begin.

In such a realm, his decision should be relatively easy, knowing that no matter what he did for these people, they would still be caught in the crossfire, yet despite all this, Rowan found that he could not go ahead and condemn these people.

He hated this realm, he hated the fact that it had taken his children from him and he wanted to rob this realm of every single shred of control and dominance that it had cultivated from time immemorial... He wanted to be more.

What was the point of all this power if he was like everyone else? Should his power not give him the freedom to become what he wanted? Could he not break the cycle of endless suffering where the worth of life was only determined by the power they controlled?

He paused, 'why am I thinking of such a thing at this time? Life is meaningless, death is meaningless, and only the truth at the end of all things is worth pursuing. Yet despite all of this, why do I no longer care for ultimate truth and power? Why do I care about these mortals? Have I fallen to such an extent? Why is my heart in pain?'

Free of his all-consuming strength and responsibilities, Rowan discovered that he had regained a small measure of the soul that he had lost.

This realization shook him to the core. He should not be able to change any longer, his spirit was too powerful, greater than what most immortals could ever fathom, change for him was so difficult that it should have been impossible, even Rowan did not believe he could change, his nature had become fixed, how was it that...

He brought his old and withered hands to his eyes and on his finger was a wisp of silver fire- Soul Flame. An ability he had lost since the moment he evolved his second bloodline from Soul Reaver to become the Avatar of Eve.

... he now had a soul.

R

Rowan felt a slight stir in the breeze a few minutes before a young boy, seven years of age and carrying a large basket came up to his side, the child dropped the basket with an exaggerated groan and fished out a large blue loaf of bread that had mold growing on it, he diligently scraped away as much of the mold as he could and then presented the loaf to Rowan with a smile,

"Old Father, please have some food, you have remained in this position for weeks, do not give up on life, there are many things to look out for and many delicacies to taste, I heard that in distant continents there are warm bread that are soft like clouds, can you imagine such a thing? If you give up hope, then you may never see or even touch such a thing."

Rowan had been sitting at the entrance of a mine that led into the earth, this mine that stretched for miles was one of the cracks between the scales of the fallen Ouroboros Serpents, and those cracks led deep into the earth where essence-rich ore that could strengthen the body and enriched the souls could be found.

Valuable resources like this should make every Blood Bound powerful and were made to be more beneficial to their bodies than a normal Explorer who could only use the soul-enriching portion of the ore and dispose of the rest, but the Blood Bound could not enjoy these resources, instead, they were used as slaves to mine.

Of course, such a treatment would lead to resentment, and from this resentment a resistance group was born that sought to free the Blood Bound from their plight, and according to rumors their headquarters could be found deep inside the earth.

Coincidentally these resistance groups were the small section of the Blood Bound that Rowan was finding hard to trace, something was shielding them from his sight and that was intriguing. Anything that could block his bloodline connection was not simple.

Rowan had been pursuing the trail of the resistance for a while now because some of the things they were doing should not be possible with the resources available to them. There was no Ascendant among their rank, and yet they could survive for this long and even hide from his bloodline resonance. Intriguing indeed.

He smiled at the child and took the moldy bread, eating it in three quick bites and leaving the child staring at him in awe at how quickly he could devour the loaf. The young boy had been coming to find him daily and never failed to give him food, in all that time Rowan never spoke to the child.

The reason for this was because the soul of the boy was quite sensitive, it was the reason the child unconsciously came close to Rowan, the deep resonance he felt with him confused and interested the child, so much so that if Rowan had spoken to this child, his bloodline would erupt and something new and fantastic would be born inside of him.

The child waited for a moment, his eyes wide, hoping that today would be the day that Rowan spoke to him, but as always Rowan remained silent. He became a bit downcast but it lasted for only a brief moment before he smiled and struggled to lift his heavy basket back to his head where he was going to be sharing its content with the miners below,

"I will come again tomorrow and bring another loaf for you. Do not give up Old Father, we still need your wisdom."

With those cheery words, the boy began descending into the mines, but something was different today because Rowan was following him, for a while the child was unaware of Rowan's presence because his tread was lighter than a feather, but his sensitive soul made him turn around and he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Rowan a few feet behind him, he had been descending for more than twenty minutes over rough terrains and yet he had neither felt or heard anything,

"Old Father, is something wrong, why are you descending into the earth with me, it is quite dangerous here and you need to be quick of foot to escape the beasts inside the darkness."