Anchorpoint
The episode of life is to discover what is real and what is actual, then to release yourself of both.
The Gyre
The Gyre of Returning is a vast chamber threaded with faint radiant arcs, each one a record of a movement that happens outside the Eventfold. It’s part observatory, part keeping of motion. Azymar steadies himself after his arrival. His eyes track the trajectories weaving the chamber. Rithel arrives already in motion, several arcs flare brighter when he does.
“Azymar!” Rithel is already headed his way. His arms fling around Azymar in a familiar embrace.
"Rithel," Azymar returns the hug. "Stars, what are you doing here?"
"I sensed you'd be here. Wanted to catch up. Any word from the rest?" Rithel's excited tempo causes nearby strings to brighten as he speaks.
"Not yet. I cam here to check on the currents." Azymar glances around the Gyre and notices the vectors have shifted since the last time he's stood here.
Rithel laughs, "This place always feels faster when you visit, like the Gyre straightens its back when you're here." They both take a moment to observe the observatory.
"The arcs are beating oddly, today," Rithel notes.
"Yes... several trajectories have rotated a few degrees off their long-standing axes."
"It's almost... restless."
"It's slipping," they say at the same time and look at each other.
"Have you seen this pattern before?" Azymar's tone is more direct.
Rithel does a soft scan, "No, I don't have a pattern for this."
Azymar looks around more deliberately, "It's re-orienting."
"Makes sense why we're both here," Rithel speaks a beat slower. "Maybe it's time to speak to the others, Arketh will probably—"
"You both see it, too." A voice interjects from behind them.
Rithel immediately swivels and grins, "Mevyr! I thought you were off attending... personal maintenance."
"Your schedule has been irregular," Azymar adds calmly, side-glancing sideways at the arcs. Mevyr sighs in that long-suffering way systems do when chaos agents poke them.
"Yes, yes. Very amusing. Now explain why half the flows in this chamber are behaving like drunken rivers," Mevyr gestures at the arcs while Rithel and Azymar each place a hand on his shoulders.
"It's well to see you, Mevyr," Azymar gives him a half smile.
"I'm assuming you got some word from the Verse?" Rithel's playful tone returns a groan from Mevyr and one of the arcs stutter on his behalf.
"It's not optimal," he informs them. "Their academics are starting to understand the Eventfold from their side. More of theirs are able to visit for longer periods of time, but it still disorients their lattices eventually." His attention drifts for a moment.
"Looks like its time to check the records. Anomalies like this one must have been recorded before," Azymar suggests.
"This one isn't," Arketh appears out of nowhere having waited for one of them to say it. "The rest of you are anything but anomalous. So very predictable." Rithel lets out the biggest smile and attempts to squeeze the solemnity out of him. Arketh adjusts his glasses, "I have news."
Rithel can't help himself, "What? Like new bookmark?"
Virelen
The sky above the manor doesn't quite line up with the rest of the night. Nearby winds seem to carry actual whispers, and the paths around it pivot slowly with the stars. In the kitchen, Sothea has just set tea for herself and Thalor, whose massive stature calms the kitchen itself.
"Arketh never invites them to stay like this. But this one named too many connections in her notes to ignore," she says.
"No wonder the place is creaking," Thalor peaks at the beams. "What else do you know about her? This author."
"I'm not even sure she gave him a name! Which is even more odd of Arketh to make her a guest. Here..." She gets up to pull a stack a papers off the counter and places them in front of Thalor. "So I read her notes. She even wove their musical terms into it. Called it an antiphon."
"Is she calling or responding?" Thalor asks, pulling the papers closer.
"Maybe both. She's resting in her room now. Arketh left for the Gyre."
Thalor furrows his eyebrows, "She calls it the ground ring, the basso ostinato. I haven't seen it framed this way before."
"Mhmm," Sothea nods. "Arketh combed through it, scribed it into his own records."
"She even talks about compression and expansion as one breath," the floorboards creak under him as he continues to sift through it. "Of all recursions, she's even attempted to document nested mirror universes. That's still emergent even in their science realms. Sothea, even we can't confirm that from our own investigations. No one's seen the curvature, yet."
"I know, and she labels it a conceptual appendix. An appendix!" Sothea is almost humming out giggles.
"Sothea..." Thalor stones and the chair barely catches his weight.
Sothea places a hand on his arm, "I know, Thalor. We... we've met a lot of hopefuls, and we still don't know enough."
"Does Anselin know about her?" he asks and she goes quiet, shaking her head.
"No, after the last failed braid... we haven’t disturbed him, either."
"And the others?"
"Arketh will return with Rithel, Azymar, and Mevyr. I'm sure everyone else is sensing it, too."
"Sothea..."
"I know."
The Gyre
Mevyr is analyzing Arketh's form. Azymar is squinting.
"She said what?!" Rithel startles everyone a little. "She called it a Zip File Theory?!"
Arketh blinks at him, "Yes. She uses it on memory compression, too."
"She can't just do that," Rithel looks at Mevyr, then Azymar. "Why are you two just standing there?"
"Hope is expensive, Arketh," Azymar doesn't hesitate.
"I don't hope, Azymar. It simply can't be overlooked." Arketh lets out a deep sigh, "Thalor as with Sothea. Go. I will gather the others."
"Anselin?" Mevyr asks, still barely moving.
"After. We will do the observation ourselves. If at one point, even we cannot confirm the outcome, we will send for him."
