The rarity of the Aeterium among the Four Ancient Races isn't due to warfare or external annihilation. Their scarcity is rooted in the nature of their souls and their difficulty in reproduction, making them anomalies even among the Ancient Races.
The soul of an Aeterium is unlike that of any other being in existence. It is eternal, unbreakable, and bound to reincarnation. When an Aeterium dies, their soul does not pass into any afterlife nor fade into the cosmic fabric. Instead, it seeks a new vessel, a new body to inhabit in a never-ending cycle of existence.
However, this process is fraught with peril. While their soul carries the full strength, essence, and abilities they had in their previous life, it retains none of the memories.
Each reincarnation is a blank slate. This lack of continuity, while allowing them to live anew, comes at a significant cost.
The fragility of the vessel itself often determines their fate. Aeterium souls are immensely powerful and not every body can withstand the strain of housing them. If the new vessel is too weak to contain the overwhelming essence of an Aeterium, it results in a catastrophic failure. The soul and body tear each other apart, obliterating both. This means that for every reincarnation, the odds of survival are slim, leaving many Aeterium souls in an endless cycle of destruction.
This delicate balance between soul and vessel ensures that while their spirits are immortal, their physical presence in the world is heartbreakingly rare.
Even for the Ancient Races, reproduction is a rarity, but for the Aeterium, it is nearly miraculous. The conception of an Aeterium child is an event so rare that it is whispered about in reverence.
This rarity is tied to the unique essence of their race. Aeterium children require not just the merging of two physical beings but also the alignment of two immensely potent and compatible souls. This alignment happens so infrequently that generations may pass without a single birth.
Vastarael's own existence is a testament to this rarity.
His parents, despite their unmatched power and bond, waited nine millennia before they were blessed with their first child. This delay was not out of choice but a reflection of the universal struggle all Aeterium face.
Actually, the main reason Vastarael's other siblings exist is because of his birth.
The birth of an Aeterium child doesn't just ensure the continuation of their legacy. It triggers a unique phenomenon. For a brief period following the birth, the parent Aeterium becomes significantly more fertile and capable of producing additional offspring. This phase doesn't last long—perhaps a decade at most—and its rarity means Aeterium couples take it as a sign to make the most of the opportunity.
For Vastarael's father, Dilasyus, this phase brought more than just the joy of one miraculous child.
It brought three exceedingly motivated wives. Lysameria, Caresse and Opera, while very different in personality, had one thing in common: they weren't about to waste this golden opportunity.
Vastarael's mother, Lysameria, was first to act. Sweet and graceful as she was in everyday life, she revealed an entirely different side of herself when it came to her desire for another child. According to family rumors (and overheard conversations Vastarael wished he hadn't heard), Lysameria had once dragged Dilasyus into their chambers mid-meal, declaring that there was 'no time for distractions' when the future of their lineage was at stake.
"I don't care if you're exhausted," she had allegedly told her husband with a smile that could melt steel, "you're the Nexus of this family, aren't you? Act like it."
The result? Vastarael's sister Anamorsia was born four years later, followed swiftly by a very worn-out Dilasyus claiming Lysameria was 'a force no mortal or immortal should ever challenge.'
Caresse, the cunning and pragmatic second wife, wasn't far behind. Once she realized what was happening with Lysameria, she wasted no time cornering Dilasyus in the library (an apparent sanctuary he had sought to escape his reproductive duties).
Milliania's birth soon followed, leaving Dilasyus with a haunted look every time he passed Caresse's favorite sitting room.
And then there was Opera, the gentlest of the three wives but no less determined. She approached the situation with a soft, motherly demeanor, coaxing Dilasyus into endless evenings filled with warm tea, candlelight, and subtly suggestive conversation.
By the time Dilasyus realized her true intentions, it was too late. He was effectively trapped in her loving embrace, her soft-spoken promises of 'just one more' rendering him utterly defenseless.
"Don't think you're getting away from me," she had reportedly said, blocking the exit with an outstretched arm as he tried to escape the bedroom. "If Lysameria's getting another child, I'm getting two. Efficiency, my dear. You'll thank me later."
Opera's determination bore fruit, quite literally, with the arrival of twins Leon and Leones. However, the toll it took on Dilasyus was evident to all. Vastarael could distinctly recall his father emerging from Opera's chambers days later, pale as moonlight, muttering something about 'tactical ambushes' and 'how does she have this much stamina?' talks.
And he wasn't dumb enough not to understand what he meant by that.
It wasn't until years later that Vastarael began to piece together the puzzle of his family's sudden growth spurt. As a child, he hadn't questioned the weeks-long disappearances of his father or the strange bouts of exhaustion that seemed to plague him whenever he re-emerged.
But as a teenager, snippets of overheard conversations and unfortunate comments from palace staff began painting a picture he wasn't sure he wanted to see.
One particularly mortifying memory involved his father joking with the Dynasty Duke, Adelasta's father.
"I tell you, Lysameria is a monster in bed. I'm lucky to be alive after those weeks. The woman's endurance could rival a Nexus War. She left me dry as a desert."
Vastarael had been within earshot when this was said. His first reaction was disbelief. Surely his kind, graceful mother couldn't possibly—
"Nope. Nope. I'm not thinking about it," he had muttered to himself, marching out of the room with his hands clamped firmly over his ears.
But the comments didn't stop. As the prince, he often heard palace gossip floating through the corridors. It was always something about his father being "dragged" or "captured" by one of his wives for days at a time. Every time, Vastarael found himself questioning how such soft-spoken women could drive the Mage Nexus of the Eleventh Star to exhaustion.
On rare occasions, Vastarael's father would offer some wisdom—usually unsolicited, especially during mage training.
"Son," Dilasyus once said, slumping onto a divan after returning from Caresse's chambers as he walked to his office for their sessions, "if you ever take multiple wives, make sure to prepare an escape route. Trust me on this one."
Vastarael had stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or run.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because," Dilasyus said dramatically, "it's your fault this all started. If you hadn't been born, I'd still have my peace!"
Despite the jesting tone, Vastarael couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. His miraculous birth had set everything in motion, and while he cherished his siblings, the knowledge that he was the catalyst for his father's eternal exhaustion was a burden he wasn't sure how to carry.
Also, he was confused.
Through it all, one question nagged at Vastarael's mind: Was his mother really that... ferocious? He'd seen Lysameria as nothing but kind, patient, and elegant. But the stories he'd overheard suggested a side of her he couldn't reconcile with the image he held.
He tried not to think about it too deeply, lest he forever ruin his perception of her.
'Anyway, it's none of my business.'
Though, deep down, he knew he'd never escape the mystery... or the occasional nightmares of being "dragged" into a similar fate someday.
-----
Anyways, back to the real story...
"You know, if someone as powerful as her is here, then why is she following us? And where are going?"
Vastarael and Phaenora were running at top speed through the hilly landscape. The mountains were not snow capped and the land was green. In fact, it was so easy for them to run this time. No thick snow, cold winds...
Fortunately for Phaenora, who memorized all the maps in her mind and the holograms she had access to thanks to Thyrexxa, they were not having a hard time navigating.
"Back to the Lake of Miracles. Thankfully, the Frozen Ruins and the Lake of Miracles exist on the same island and the distance took four days. Now, without the snow and the blizzard, it's going to take less than a day."
He wasn't kidding. He was sure that he was running as fast as the long distance trains in Anqerise.
Right now, though? He estimated they were easily outpacing that.
It wasn't just their feet that were fast. The world around them seemed to distort as they moved. Trees and rocks blurred into streaks of color, and even the wind struggled to keep up, whipping past their ears in frenzied gusts.
Vastarael had to focus his essence into his muscles and joints to prevent the strain of such rapid movement from tearing his body apart. He could feel the air resistance building like an invisible wall against his chest, forcing him to push harder with every step.
'We're probably breaking the sound barrier,' he said to Phaenora mentally.
Phaenora didn't even glance back. 'Oh, we broke that an hour ago. Keep up.'
And right behind them, the Stray Aeterium (they decided to call her that became was actually an Aeterium) was still following them with her invisibility on.