**The Quest for the Arcanum Primum** Through dim halls she stepped, Galaxy gliding past towering shelves where dust clung to time-worn spines. Hoofbeats barely broke the silence, soft as breath on stone, while her eyes hunted secrets buried in crumbling pages. Magic lived in her bones - not just learned, but breathed since birth, unlike most who only touched it at arm's length. Horned yet no unicorn, her form carried power older than names, tied to unseen currents beneath reality’s surface. Between world and whisper, matter and dream, her people stood - never fully one, never quite the other. That split nature pulled them toward lost wisdom; among them all, Galaxy burned brightest, chasing what others had long abandoned. Starting early, her mind caught on how things shift - from iron into gold, lead into light. As years passed, she saw walls around what people claim to know. Spells fail here. Words carved in ancient tongues fall short too. Even thick books bound in leather give nothing complete. Always, it was the hush before silence that held what needed finding. Out of old tales came whispers about a source older than years, untouched by rot or age. Should she hold just part of its power, understanding far past mortal limits might open before her eyes. Still, knowing wasn’t the whole weight on her mind. What she truly chased - what pulled harder - was endlessness itself, so secrets once found wouldn’t fade when light turned dim. **The Path of Obsession** Galaxy spent countless seasons bent over crumbling scrolls, tracing symbols carved deep within stone. Into those quiet hours she poured her focus, pulled forward by riddles older than memory. Veilheim's vast libraries held dust and silence, but also voices - pages murmuring truths few had ears for. With every answer found, three new questions took root like stubborn weeds. Wisdom slipped through fingers like sand; the weight of it made most turn away. Others saw patterns where there were none, while she saw how much remained unseen. Some who studied magic stayed away from the Arcanum Primum, calling it just a story meant to warn the proud. Yet Galaxy saw something else - not legend, but path. Season after season, her fixation deepened. Fewer words left her mouth, where chatter used to spark among learned minds now silence stretched like fog. Stars pulled at her gaze, so did the hidden pulses of power under Veilheim, even tremors in the Veil - she missed none. Hours bled into trials, mapping unseen currents, bending substances unlike any spellcaster before dared try. Still, the Arcanum Primum stayed out of reach. Seconds slipped through her hooves like sand. Without holding onto forever, what chance did she have to finish what needed doing? Later, deep inside a silent collection no one remembered, sound slipped through - soft, like breath. Something stood there without showing itself, felt but not seen. From nowhere came the voice - the Serpent born of empty space. Not time, but something past it, shaped its words about strength that does not break. Years piled on years where knowing stays whole. Shadow carried what sounded like an offer, though no hands were offered. **The Pact with the Serpent** Out of nowhere, shapes began to twist near the far shelves - darkness curling into something alive. A hush slipped through Galaxy's thoughts, cool and certain, as if the air itself started speaking. Her breath caught - not quite dread, not excitement either, but somewhere tangled between. For ages she’d walked alone, hunting one lost truth among cracked spines and dust-heavy scrolls. Now, here, space seemed thinner, like veils were lifting. From that smudge of motion came two points of cold fire, watching. What showed up wasn’t sound, more like memory arriving too soon - a suggestion draped in velvet quiet. It spoke of drifting past stars long after bodies crumble. Nothing forced, only offered: step beyond endings, see what grows when lifespans stop counting. Thoughts spun fast inside Galaxy. Paying that price meant losing who she truly was - a core truth slipping away. Still, the pull of the Arcanum Primum burned stronger than fear ever could. Doubts faded, one by one, drowned beneath rising hunger. A slow pressure built within her chest, like something ancient waking up. Moments stretched thin, every breath feeding the coil tightening around her will. Visions flashed: moving beyond limits, shaping moments before they happened. Magic bent easily under imagined hands, flowing unlike anything known. A hush fell when she spoke, her words shaky but sure, sealing the deal in one breathless instant. Light flared beneath her feet, old marks burning bright like they remembered her name. Forward was the only way now, even if the shadows didn’t yet know what she’d become. **The Hollow Eternity** Inside her, the ceremony left a chill, sharp as ice, locking time deep within her frame. Once the words stopped and the marks on air dissolved, Galaxy stayed the same shape - yet something behind her eyes had shifted beyond return. Heat used to run along her blood, alive and steady; now it is absent, traded for a quiet so vast it feels eternal. Sounds that once reached her - the hum of distant suns, echoes of lost stories, bursts of wonder at what lies far out there - are muffled, then erased. Feeling rose and fell in waves before, mortal-like, fleeting - but today those tides have drawn back, leaving bare rock where they once played. Cold steps marked her days now, each one shaped by spells pulled from silence instead of sleep. Not time, but the weight of never changing held her fast. Closer to Arcanum Primum with every word undone, though memory tugged at her heels. Purpose burned where heartbeat used to be - older than want, deeper than need. No tears came anymore, just quiet rooms filled with lightless study. Life passed outside her window like wind through broken glass. She stayed behind, chasing what only she could name. Endless pages turned without sound while years stacked up beyond reach. **The Weight of Eternity** Even after failing to grasp the Arcanuim Primum, Galaxy kept moving forward without pause. Still, across endless stretches of time, weight settled in where progress should have been. What she used to hunger for now rang empty, while control slipped into something thin, almost ghostlike. Joy in finding new things stayed out of reach; so did sorrow for what it cost to arrive there. Shadows from long ago followed her, soft sounds of joy, companionship, light - that stretched far away like night sky flickers. Though unchained from time, just as the void serpent foretold, this liberty sat empty, weightless. Eons opened before her, ripe for learning, still… numb hoves could not grip why knowing mattered. Alone in never-ending quiet, she turned the thought around: did breath remain, or only a faint trace where life used to stand?