The Primordial Record

With his decision made, Rowan's consciousness spread across his Destroyer. Since he had access to just one consciousness he could not even cover the entirety of his being. He could only see a small part of it, his consciousness could not cover the totality of his existence, and like an ant roaming the body of a mighty dragon, he searched through thousands of worlds until he found his target.

Lost tends to move around… a lot.

Rowan wondered if it was because of his name that the boy tended to wander like the breeze. Names were powerful, but he still thought it fit the nature of the boy. Rowan was grateful he did not wipe out the consciousness of this Supreme Aspect when he made it.

This would be something his father would do. Rowan would be better than that. He had to be, or else the battle with his father would lead to nothing but destruction on such a scale that nothing of laughter or love would come of it.

'This sentiment… is this the realization of a Mortal's life that colors my thoughts?' Rowan mused. 'My Will of Truth comprehends the value of creation and preservation. When I was weak, I was nothing but an animal struggling to survive, giving up my soul for a mere Empyrean bloodline, but as a Nascent Primordial, my vision should be greater…. I am a Destroyer and I am a Creator.'

Although it was harder to regard mortals as important as he grew stronger, the fact that he could not understand how their simple structure could hold an energy as powerful as a soul humbled him.

Their chaotic lives and deaths. Their ambitions and sorrows, their loves and hatred, they all seemed so small and meaningless when you looked at them from afar… he could crush trillions with a wave of his hand, but the true magic was to descend and live among them.

Their lives were brief as mayflies… but by the light of all creation, how they shine so bright.

He felt his Will vibrate strongly, and the urge to evolve to a Second Dimensional Creature was so great, that he nearly gave in but that would be a mistake in this place filled with the energy of Destruction that was tainted.

He had a mission, and he would complete it first before upgrading his Will, and he would be doing that outside of Trion to avoid any complications or interference. Besides, Rowan hoped to be able to push forward and become a three-dimensional entity in one go.

Rowan settled the fierce commotion in himself and concentrated on the target he was after.

He found Lost riding on top of the body of a gigantic elephant with eight tusks, his face was bright with laughter, and his small arms still chubby with stubborn baby fat pumping in the air.

Rowan could not help himself and he smiled.

Rowan had noticed a weird phenomenon that he had dismissed for the moment after he tried to understand it, there would be time for experiments later. He had noticed that the worlds inside his Destroyer and everything it contained were active when his attention was not focused on them.

The moment his consciousness returned, time would stop. Take for instance the figure of Lost, the last time he had looked inside here, he was being taught by Eva, their frozen posture was enough to convey that impression, but now the boy was riding on this large beast.

Rowan wrapped his consciousness gently around the boy and brought him out, with access to only one stream of power, he had to be careful not to hurt anyone by mistake as controlling many things at the same time could cause lapses in his power management.

Lost appeared by the Runic Circle, and at first, he was motionless as if the effect of the time stop was upon him and then he gasped, looked around, and focused on the form of Circe lying on the ground, he looked at her female form in shock since he could detect Rowan inside of her,

"I'm hello sir…madam? My lord, I never knew you liked to um… shapeshift to a woman, I mean…see life from different perspectives. " Lost seemed distracted and he could not look at the eyes of Rowan who appeared to become suddenly tired.

Lost snapped his small fingers as if he had come to a realization, and he beamed,

"I get it, this is what the Lady of Shadows had been trying to teach me. This is how I can see life from another point of view. From today, I'm no longer Lost, the boy of flames, I am now a proud…"

"Enough of this buffoonery child," Rowan interrupted the silly antics of Lost and pushed the knowledge of what he required into his mind, he waited for two seconds before he asked, "Have you mastered the rites."

Lost blinked rapidly for a few seconds before he gave a thumbs up and his demeanor drastically changed as he swept both his legs upwards and sat down cross-legged in midair.

"Good, you have only one chance. If you fail me then my plans for this world would have to go a different route. Many would die in the war that would erupt, including those you know and love."

Lost swallowed, "I won't fail you."

Rowan nodded and closed Circe's eyes. What he said to the child was harsh, but he needed him to put a hundred percent of his effort into this task. The sting of his Angels dying in the hands of Caine still pained him deeply, and it was one of the reasons he chose not to attack Trion head-on.

Lost also closed his eyes as he concentrated fully on the ritual, his amazing consciousness was able to encapsulate the entire information that Rowan had sent to him, and with a voice that did not waver he began to chant using a harsh demonic language.

Rowan nodded and made sure Circe lay correctly in the receptacle, he dispersed her clothes, and it was revealed that her skin was now filled with multiple Runes that were not engraved on her skin but had been sliced deep into her flesh until the white of her bones could be seen.

The Runes also penetrated her bones, and in the realm of the invisible, the Runes covered her soul.

Lost floated above her body and as he continued chanting another voice joined him, it was feminine and sounded like Circe, but the voice was speaking Medan.

Circe's mouth opened wide and a pale blue fog drifted out of it to gather above her and created her incarnation.

The Incarnation had two faces, Circe's and Boreas's. The Incarnation was pale, almost resembling a marble statue, its features were washed out, and its form appeared to fuzz at the edges as if it was at the fringe of dissipation.

The Incarnation also sat cross-legged opposite Lost and the chants were coming from its lips.

Lost looked down at Circe one last time and focused on her entire form, knowing that what he looked upon was his creator.

'I will not fail you.'