Shadow Slave

Back in the Red Colosseum, Sunny had spent an excruciating amount of time remembering and comparing the weaves of different Memories in order to understand what they had in common.

In his mind, there were three traits that all Memories shared: the ability to be summoned and dismissed, the ability to repair themselves while dismissed, and the connection to the wielder's soul.

By recognizing these three universal parts of the weave patterns, he thought that he had learned how to reproduce these simplest enchantments, at least to the point where he managed to create a simple pattern that allowed an item to be dismissed and summoned from essence.

…However, there was a fourth quality that all Memories shared, one that he had not thought about.

All Memories had a name.

'I am an idiot… such an idiot…'

He of all people should have known what power names wielded, considering that his own True Name was literally the key to having absolute control over him.

Appearing from the shadows that nestled in his room, Sunny fell on the bed and summoned the Silver Bell — the Memory with which he was familiar the most. He had spent countless hours studying its weave and trying to comprehend the secrets of how it worked… to little avail, up until now.

Staring beneath the surface of the small bell, he saw the beautiful and complicated pattern of ethereal strings that permeated it, with a single dimly glowing ember in its middle.

By now, Sunny had managed to recognize the parts of the weave that were responsible for all its unique qualities… or so he thought.

There were the three segments of the pattern that he had learned in the Red Colosseum, and the rest was the single enchantment of the bell. However, despite knowing all the parts, Sunny could never make sense of the whole weave… as though something was missing, making all his attempts to comprehend the logic and connections of the ethereal strings useless.

but it also has a name… the name that differentiates it from every

The task of separating one completely

he had something even better. The intrinsic predisposition to weaving that he had inherited from the Demon of Fate… the very quality that Noctis had mentioned Hope possessed when it came to runic sorcery, as

All Sunny had to do now… was carefully examine each and every string comprising the vast pattern, and sense which ones were meant to

knew nothing about had

stare at the small silver bell, forgetting about

Yes! I see

enchantments, but also didn't seem to

that described the name of the Memory. Such a vast and intricate pattern of ethereal strings,

Silver Bell.

pattern, a strange thing happened. The weave of the Silver Bell remained the same, but he

parts suddenly seemed harmoniously connected, and the chaotic and senseless structure of the weave suddenly appeared to possess a strange and

He was stunned.

did I not see

it, weaving through every part of the tapestry of ethereal strings was the name, Silver Bell,

Memory I tried to modify collapsed. I only

wide eyes, seeing the familiar parts of it in a new

frown appeared

'Wait… what is that?'

pattern — or rather, of the logic behind its foundational structure — he could also see an element that seemed alien to his understanding. By now, no part of this

there was