Vitriolate. The word itself feels like a fractured prism, a memory of light splintered and rearranged. It isn't simply 'to make glassy' or 'to glaze.' It’s a state of being, a resonance. Consider the ancient glassblowers, not just shaping molten sand, but coaxing trapped emotions – grief, joy, longing – into solid form. Each bubble, each imperfection, a record of the breath, the focus, the *will*. The process isn’t about creating something new, but about revealing what already exists, amplified and solidified.
The term originates, according to fragmented textual records recovered from the subterranean archives of the Chronarium of Veridia, with the Xylosian people. They believed that the universe itself was fundamentally vitriolate – a chaotic symphony of reflections, constantly shifting and reforming. Their rituals involved manipulating polished obsidian, not for practical purposes, but to attune themselves to these vibrational patterns, to experience the universe from within its fractured heart.
The Xylosian texts speak of ‘Vitriolation’ as a form of psychic resonance. When a powerful emotion – a betrayal, a profound love – is intensely felt, it can, under the right conditions (a specific lunar alignment, a resonant stone, an individual’s inherent sensitivity), induce a state of vitriolation. The individual then perceives reality through a million shimmering overlays, each reflecting a different facet of the original experience. It’s a hallucinatory state, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
Further investigation, utilizing advanced chrono-linguistic analysis, suggests a more nuanced understanding of vitriolation. It’s not solely about visual distortion; it's a disruption of temporal perception. The individual’s sense of ‘now’ becomes diluted, layered with echoes of past and potential futures. Think of a kaleidoscope – each turn reveals a new, yet related, pattern. Vitriolation is a similar phenomenon, but on a fundamental level, disrupting the linear flow of time.
The Xylosian’s used a complex device, the ‘Chronosiphon,’ to induce and control this effect. It wasn’t a weapon, but a tool for contemplation and, according to the records, a method of accessing ‘chronal memories’ – not memories of one’s own life, but echoes of events that had occurred across vast stretches of time. These weren't clear recollections, but rather fragments, impressions, feelings, as if one were eavesdropping on the universe’s own thoughts.
The process of vitriolation, according to the Chronarium’s researchers, is remarkably unstable. Prolonged exposure invariably leads to a complete dissolution of the self, a merging with the chaotic flux of time and space. This is why the Chronosiphon was always used in carefully controlled environments, with safeguards designed to mitigate the risk. It’s a cautionary tale, a reminder of the inherent dangers of seeking to manipulate the fundamental forces of reality.
Recent discoveries within the Veridian archives have revealed a surprising connection between vitriolation and a rare mineral found only in the deepest reaches of the Obsidian Peaks – ‘Chronium’. Chronium, when exposed to specific sonic frequencies, appears to act as a catalyst, amplifying and stabilizing the vitriolation effect. The Xylosian used this to craft “Obsidian Keys,” meticulously shaped shards of Chronium, utilized to navigate the distorted timelines.
The Obsidian Keys were not merely conduits; the Xylosian believed that they could be ‘tuned’ – the shape, size, and even the method of holding them influenced the direction and clarity of the temporal echoes. A key shaped like a heart, for instance, might reveal memories associated with love, while a key shaped like a serpent would bring forth images of deception and betrayal.
The final section of the Chronarium’s research suggests that the true purpose of the Obsidian Keys was not to alter the past, but to *understand* it. By experiencing the universe through the lens of vitriolation, the Xylosian sought to unravel the complex tapestry of causality, to grasp the underlying principles that governed the flow of time. A noble, if ultimately perilous, endeavor.