The home of Caryll was one of many oddities. The crazed runesmith had long abandoned any pretense of sanity. The lighting was strange, with some areas being completely dark and others being lit with a great number of lamps and candles. A mess of parchment was strewn about the home, scattered in seemingly random places. On these pieces of parchment were strange and eerie symbols. These were, of course, the Caryll Runes.
The way Caryll Runes worked was quite mysterious. Simply beholding them did not give one the ability to draw from their Arcane power. Instead, a process of memorizing and imprinting the image onto one's mind was required. In other words, the Rune and the Person had to be one.
The result was quite impressive. Most allowed for a notable increase in areas such as vitality, resistance, and stamina. However, the wearer also had to bear the burden of the Caryll Runes madness. They were the utterings of the Great Ones after all. Such inconceivable thoughts and language were not meant for those who lacked the transcendental plane of thought.
This was what made them so harrowing. In borrowing the power of a Caryll Rune, one could borrow the power of the transcendental plane on which the Great Ones operated on.
This plane of existence and thought might be considered another dimension…literally. The Great Ones surpassed space-time. As such, they were beings that the people in the world of The Nightmare Spell couldn't even imagine. Despite their plane of existence being called "transcendental" and the term "Great" being in their names, they were decidedly far deadlier than any Transcendent human of the Waking World. And even the Great Nightmare Creatures who existed on a Rank above the Transcendents would likely be easily erased by a Great One.
So borrowing this power was something he dubbed the highest priority.
The only issue was he had to work with Caryll to make it happen.
"Everything's terrible, just awful, really. I'm being honest here, Gehrman. You believe me, right?" The mad woman was rocking in a chair. Her poise was quite elegant, but her words and eyes were an incoherent mess.
Of course, this was to be expected.
The highest number of Caryll Runes that Hunter's had managed to memorize was three. Gehrman himself had once tried to bear the burden of four Caryll Runes, only to find himself bleeding profusely from all of his orifices on his face.
…But Caryll had memorized dozens. She had gone through the exceptionally painful process of transcribing these Runes into a physical image. The fact that she was alive was nothing short of a miracle.
"I need a Rune Workshop Tool, Caryll. And I need to know the powers each one grants."
"You know, you're kind of an asshole Gehrman. This is why no one likes you."
The face of the middle-aged man twitched. The woman was not being cruel or even mean. He had known her long enough to be sure of this fact. Runemaster Caryll was simply a very, very blunt person.
"I need the Tool at least."
"No way, I already gave you one, didn't I? It's not like that one stopped working!"
Gehrman blinked slowly. He…he did have one back at the Workshop…Why had he come here? For more knowledge about Runes? It was a plausible answer, but something still felt off.
"How do you know it didn't break? I built the tool, but I can't remake it without your input on the exact calibrations and images. Why do you find such an answer unfeasible?"
"Why do you care? You already have the Runes you like, right?"
"I recently ran into some trouble, and I've forgotten the Runes."
Suddenly, her pale blue eyes turned to him sharply. They focused in an instant. "You don't forget Runes. Not unless you overwrite them." Then, the short woman was on her feet and crossing the room. She turned her tough chin upward and seemed to truly look at the man before her for the first time.
"You…you're not Gehrman."
It felt as if he had been thrust back into the Dark Sea. A vulnerability he was mostly unfamiliar with stuck him to the spot. He had acted bizarrely in the First Nightmare, but no one had suspected his identity. He was under the Impression that the figures conjured by the Nightmare were built with the inability to mistake him for someone else.
And yet there was no suspicion in Caryll's eyes, only certainty.
"You aren't him. But you look, sound, and feel like him."
"Feel–?"
"You aren't him, but you are wearing his body," Caryll continued, poking his body. "Or maybe…You are real, but this world isn't?"
Gehrman couldn't help but flinch at the sudden accusation.
"How?"
"I was lying earlier," Caryll said. She spoke in a tone very unlike her. It was completely sane. "Or rather, I wasn't being forthcoming. I spoke like I did before. I remember the ravings, like whispers in a long forgotten dream." She scrunched her features, as if trying to recall something. "But I can't remember them either. I can't hear them at all."
A chill ran down Gehrman's spine. Had the Nightmare Spell…actually blocked communication with the Great Ones and their plane of reality? Was that even possible?
Of course it was. He was so used to seeing the Great Ones as the highest power that he forgot that one of the most foul of those creatures had been trapped and caged by the power of The Nightmare Spell.
Though the Moon Presence clearly influenced the creation of this Nightmare and was able to exert some authority over it, the reality ultimately was a creation of the Spell. And the Spell had no reason to include the Great Ones who would interfere with this story.
And since they did not exist…neither did the Caryll Runes.
"Shit," Gehrman grabbed his head and grimaced.
"So it's that bad, huh?" Caryll's dry voice interrupted his sulking. "Well, how do you think I feel? I'm still in the dark here! I don't even know if I'm real!"
Gehrman squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
After opening them, he took in the petite woman before him.
He couldn't use her legacy, but she was still Runesmith Caryll. The genius who could understand the utterings of the Great Ones…and now she was also the genius who could see through the dreams crafted by the Nightmare Spell.
Caryll was still a singular existence.
"Let's sit down, Caryll. There is a lot to explain."