Sublime Decomposition

[DirectorBright]

---

What makes a flower?
It is not the stem, the leaves, the petals... nor is it the genetic sequence within it's cells.
It is an inherent conceptual, bound to the flower, that differentiates it from all else.
That is what unifies it into the object you see before you, instead of leaves, stem, petals... or carbon, hydrogen, oxygen... or perhaps sunlight, water, and plant material.
It is a flower, instead of any of those things, because the world recognizes it to be so.
Remove that recognition, that conceptual... and it is nothing more than those parts I have just described.

---

Letters and posted notes distributed by golem and drone alike from the castle city of Martyr's Vigil find themselves scattered across the continent's major cities. Each bears news, and an invitation.

After much study and practice, Grey Aundeoth, The Goldlight Order's Knight-Captain of Logistics, has finally realized a technique to sever Nyctorre from weapons, reverting it to base arcanium and leaving the original implement unharmed. First done to the staff 'Cherry Crimson,' he proclaims it to be doable quickly, easily, and reliably.

The art of Decomposition offers an elegant solution to the problem of Nyctorre. More and more, weaponry bearing this malignant metal is seen across the continent, with many uncertain of it's true nature or what to do with it, beyond it's forbidden status.

Make no mistake, Nyctorre is a truly accursed thing, a tormented soul bound into Arcanium to be yoked for strength. Every moment trapped within it's metal tomb is agony by design, an eternal prison from which it lashes out at the world about it in a tortured frenzy for freedom. All for a meagre dose of power eclipsed by all but the weakest beast cores... ordinarily such weaponry is a waste of material and a blight upon the world. It proves startlingly difficult to remove from weaponry without destroying the underlaying thing as well... a costly, agitating thing to dispose of. Doubly so if you want to save the weapon it is affixed to.

However, this need not be the case.

If you or anyone you know has acquired such weaponry, or even the metal itself, visit me within the city of Martyr's Vigil. I will sever the Nyctorre from it's weapon and free the soul within, claiming the arcanium as salvage - With one sole exception: Should the weaponry be made of Nyeshk, a choice is offered unto you as to which you would prefer to keep. I have need of that metal (subject to change). Of course, if you desire neither, I'll happily keep both.

Consider this not a fee, but my own reward, for rendering a weapon that was an unusable blight into something that may once-again see service... or be broken down into material, for your own projects. Know it will be put to far better use than it was before.

---

... Also, Nomul, if you find this, half these weapons that I keep getting handed for this process have your name on it. What happened to 'not using anything arcanium or higher' in your works?

[DirectorBright]

Another day, another soul lain to rest.
Another piece of arcanium cleansed.
Another wrong, righted.
...
Even in the aftermath of calamity...
It never ends.

It never ends, but what choice do I have?
It is not in my nature to let go, or move on.
I grip the chains of others so tightly my fingers bleed and it hurts me.
Even long after they are gone, I still hold on.

---

A reminder, a set of messages sent out, that the Knight-Captain Aundeoth still offers the service of Nyctorre removal - Fast, efficient, and without harming the original weapon. Today, more than ten have been cleansed, though count of the exact number has become nebulous.

Golem and drone carry and nail posters to notice boards across the kingdoms - excluding, of course, the Crescent and the Serpent's Nest. A reminder in the aftermath, and after many years, that such a service remains open and active, lest it be forgotten. A repetition of his original message, word for word.

---

I have lost count of how many it's been now.
A dozen, surely, or more.
The sin of binding souls, if anyone would accuse me of thus, has been undone fourfold.
Though I regret not their lives, for they were grateful to have them...

I wonder.
Does it matter?
Does it really?

Another soul freed from it's prison, sent back to renewal.
Yet what is this world they would find themselves in?
What is the point of it all when it happens over and over again?

Another agony ended, another thing that should not be, unmade.
Small and little things in the scope of the world.
In the wake of perfection's cost.

Do they notice? Are they thankful?
Do I care?
Decompose, purify, repeat.

I am a man on a sinking ship, and for every bucket I bail, for every hole I plug...
... another pours in, and two more open.
Decompose, purify, repeat.

We are building sand castles in the surf.
We are painting watercolors in the rain.
Decompose, purify, repeat.

For every problem solved, another arises.
For every victory, a growing price.
Decompose, purify, repeat.

Decompose.
Purify.
Repeat.

Decompose.
Purify.
Repeat.

Decompose.
Purify.
Repeat.

Decompose.
Purify.
Repeat.