The Aspiring Archivist

There was a long pause. When my home dimension collapsed, it wasn't destroyed. Not truly, anyways. It happened very quickly. It got cut off, spatially, temporally, dimensionally. One bit at a time. Even the magic that bomnded me to Tristan was cut. He and everything else became totally detached, and thus became nothing at all. I am unique in my ability to survive such an occurrence. I don't yet know how TAAron did. Tristan... did not.

"He's an author? How can an author make a real magic system?" You could say that. I was passed on to him after Tristan... The anguish in her voice was evident.

"Who is Brandon Sanderson, and what does he have to do with magic?"

"No, it's the trident. I can see it too." See her. My name is Tors. "See her, I mean," TAAron corrected. "Intent. That word sounds familiar, more than it should. Are you just talking about the normal word 'intent,' or is there more to it?"

"Oh! Good! So now we just need to figure out what they all mean to know how to use them, right?"

Alright, so how's the process on the whole escaping thing?

I know as little about this place as you do, probably. Who is the king here, anyways? A good man? And who is this new friend of yours?

I'm back. How is everyone? What is this place? Tors spoke in Haly's mind. Appearing in the corner of the room but only visible to her and TAAron. Did you know that there's a sword at the top of this tower? It's the most powerful single object I think I've eve seen!

"No clue. Ask @Nameless." "Interesting."

"A white room? No one told me this!" King Edmund looked up from the papers he was working on. "Do you think you all would like to move your conversation to a private lobby downstairs? I can open one up for you."

"Actually, I don't think my amnesia injured me. My understanding is that I had a soul injury already, and that caused my amnesia. So sort of vice versa, I guess."

TAAron held the card for a moment, then, not knowing what to do with, it, put it in his bag. "No idea. The first thing I remember was waking up injured and in pain on the floor of the infirmary earlier today. I didn't even know my name until someone told me. I think we're going to a tower thing to heal my soul or something." He frowned, still rifling through his bag. "Lot's of weird stuff in here. Spikes, vials with weird stuff floating in them... marshmallows?"

"I understood pretty much none of what you just said. If something explodes or anything like that, you're getting thrown off the tip of this tower. There are dozens of floors, so I would be careful." Mell put down the rod, and TAAron grabbed the card.

TAAron began reaching for the box. "Woah, woah, woah. What is that, anyways?" Mell was holding out a thin metal rod now, the end sparking. TAAron's hand became frozen a few inches from the box.

"Hi!" TAAron said, smiling. The king raised his eyebrows, then took a pen and wrote something on his arm, adding to the huge array of blue marks covering them. "Who are you, then? How did you get here?" Mell stood nearby, looking as though she were ready to go at the newcomer with her knife.

"If that is possible, I would appreciate it. However, if you find no alternative method, I would be willing to give you the iron you need."

GREETINGS. Hello fellow sharders! The Aspiring Archivist here. This is a subplot thread for The Insanity Clinic for the Moderately Brandofandonitis Afflicted (And Other Maladies), otherwise known as ICMBAAOM. Unless you are involved with the main thread, this one probably won't make much sense. However, if you are interested in joining in somehow, go ahead and DM me, and I'll see if you can fit in somewhere. @Nameless@Ookla the BlowUpperOfStuff@Kajsa@Ookla the Crow@Ookla the Obstinate A quick RECAP: Thanks to Calano for permission to create this thread. I am proud to be the founder of the first ICanon installment! And here is the last lore post that I made on the main thread that went unanswered. HERE WE GO! Adressing @Nameless: The king laughed. "Iron. Well, I don't know how you plan on using it, but you should know that we don't have it in very large quantity. We have, maybe... a cubic meter's worth in the treasury? We don't really use it for anything here, except for the creation of rods."

As Quest worked, Antin slowly came to. "What are you doing?" he asked tiredly. "What did I do?"

He remained unconscious. Almost imperceptibly, the green light dissipated as it touched Antin, his innate magic dampening preventing him from being healed.

'Here, I'll try and test it out." He grimaced in expectation of the pain that would be caused by the magic, concentrating on the strange force within him He did not get what he expected. Suddenly, he was propelled forward in an odd way, as though pushed by some force, perhaps wind magic. At same time, his figure blurred and skipped forward a few feet. After travelling only about three or four meters, he crashed hard into the ground and lay there, unmoving.

@Ookla the Kobold