Eons away, in a place realms apart, on the continent of Zaltghagahr,
Half a century before the dawn of the Fourth Divine Era, Month of Life,
It was noon, and akin to any other day of the month of life, the weather was most pleasant. Contemplating it, each and every man could effortlessly discern the reason for this month's name. Birds were chirping; a warm, light breeze was stirring the green foliage; flowers of resplendent colors were swaying under the currents of air; as the entire creation waited for an artist to come inspired by its vibrancy and let his nation witness another masterpiece that would shape its culture. Life thrived in abundance.
Though the remoteness of man from the wilds, the human town of Teodora evidently echoed the living earth, brimming with life as it rested on a plain surrounded by a lush foliar forest. The graybeards most foul of humor and the most woeful of doomsayers felt the god of life pluck the strings of their hearts, shedding light upon their being, and the most blind of unbelievers could witness this too. Which, yet, did not undermine their unyielding desire to forswear that what was bare to the eye. Alas, deities in their turn exhibited little worry for their trifling strife, their gaze set upon grander deeds, as was that of the one who dwelled above them.
Although, as the divine was detached from the mundane, so was the mundane detached from the divine, far too occupied with the struggle of its own. Merchants touted buyers with gleaming smiles; blacksmiths forged tools, weapons, and armor with mirth and resolve of one who by doing so shapes the fate of mankind, forsaking the monotony of their toil; aged wizards scribed new spells with the zeal matching their firsts.
Meanwhile, two youths, Vito and Andrea, gathered to meet once again beside the town wall, at its distant and neglected border beyond the watch of wardens, to enjoy a joint pastime. The former was a young lad with a graceful slender frame matched with fast-paced steps. He was dressed in a simple dark brown robe and upon his belt was hanging a leather pouch of notable size. His hair, as dark as night, reached his chin, where the first traces of a beard began to show themselves. His dark-brown eyes squinted and glinted under the glare of Sol as they focused on his companion, who unhurriedly walked towards him. He was a blue-eyed male with a short cut, dressed in a yellow tunic and brown trousers, coupled with leather shoes. His figure, granted by the immodest feasts of his family, lent him a boyish appearance despite his age. Although only a year had passed since their first encounter, a bond of friendship had already formed between them.
Smiles appeared on their faces as they approached each other and their hands clasped.
"Ready to test some of my new spells?" Vito asked in a slightly hushed voice as he looked around in a subtle caution.
"Of course, but be careful, please. I think we were close to getting caught the last time," Andrea replied in the same tone with a nod.
"I just didn't expect it to be so bright. But don't worry, I'll be more careful now," said the dark-haired lad, and they made their way to a breach in the town wall of fitting breadth to allow a passage for a man bent low.
Vito scanned the vicinity for the last time and stepped through the rent. His confidant followed right after, then they let out winded sighs and stood tall once more as Andrea spoke.
"Don't you think we should inform someone of that place? It probably will be quite the weak point if we ever get attacked."
The wizard made a carefree motion with his hand as he shook the dust from his attire and uttered: "Don't worry, it's fine. How are we going to get out if they fix it? Even if we are attacked, I don't think it will be a big problem. Either we can win or we can't, some hole won't change that."
"If you say so..." a sigh of reluctant surrender left Andrea as his head shook.
Yet though Vito spoke as he did, it was not for the lack of care for possible dangers. In fact, few could display as much fret for their personal well-being as he did. Yet the student of the arcane knew that in ensuring the safety of the town he would cast aside the safety of his pursuit - one he deemed far more worthy than his life. Or in the very least, that was what he strived to do.
They turned to the forest that encircled the settlement, relishing its serene and welcoming scenery, and measuredly headed forth to their destination. A passing moment of stride later, the stout figure spoke: "I wonder… how did you manage to get that magic crayon?"
The eyes of his interlocutor rolled as he replied: "How many times do I have to tell you for you to remember? That's not a magic crayon, that's a spellscribing pencil."
"Makes no difference to me. So how did you get it?"
"Remember the librarian I mentioned before? The one in whose library I live now? Raul. He gave it to me along with the book of magic symbols. He mentioned that some wizard dropped it during a visit at his library, but never returned to take it back, so he handed it to me for a promise that I won't do spells in the town."
"How irresponsible of him..."
"All the better for us."
Silence befell them as Vito strode submerged in the contemplation of the arcane, and Andrea's heart filled with fret heedful not of his will. As his mind drowned more and more in foreboding, he breathed in, struggling in vain to reign in his disquiet. Eventually, his voice was heard anew.
"And don't you think it is strange? For a book on magic to be abandoned like that… The Order of Mages keeps a close watch on these things."
"Strange indeed… But I believe we shouldn't dwell on it more than necessary. Either way, Raul won't give it away even if anyone was to come for it and they have no proofs it was lost in the library anyway. As long as no one sees it in our hands, we are safe."
"I wish I could have your calm…"
As time drifted on, the two lads arrived at their improvised testing grounds - a small clearing which contrasted the forest with its generous amount of light. Their eyes protested against the blinding shine for a fleeting moment, yet ere long they adjusted and the two began their preparations. The blond leisurely leaned against a nearby tree, while the brunet bent down as he took a leather pouch off his belt and placed it upon a patch of the bare ground, where the grass held no claim. His slender hand took out of it a long pencil etched with runes, a hefty book clad in dark leather, and several scraps of thin yellow paper roughly the size of his palm, then tucked his hair behind his ears, preparing to read.
Vito's mind returned to their discourse as his gaze set on the words engraved upon the cover of the book: "Assigned to Massimo of Teodora." His eyes narrowed faintly in thought as he wondered about the fate of the previous holder of the tome. Then he opened it, spent a moment to take in the scent that enthralled many, and, with trepidation, began to turn over the pages, musing over the choice of spells to scribe. And whilst doing so, his mind speculated as to why such a humble number of runes graced the tome with their presence.
Once the decision was made, he smoothed the ground with a sole of his shoe. Then, taking the spellscribing pencil in his left hand, he laid a scrap of paper on the soil with his right and began meticulously copying several runes of his choosing from the tome. He traced each symbol with unhurried and apprehensive strokes, stopping after the slightest movement to return his gaze to the opened page of the book before proceeding anew. Meanwhile, Andrea attentively observed his actions in silence.
Anon, several sigils took shape upon the paper in a circular pattern. Two of them sealed the elements of the spell - fire and earth - while the remaining determined its velocity and volume. He spent a moment to admire his work and scrutinize it one last time for the presence of flaws before he connected the symbols to each other, enclosing the circle and forming one single symbol.
With a faint, satisfied smile, Vito stood up, holding the piece of paper with two hands and gazing at it for a lingering span, then rolled it into a scroll. His gaze wandered about until it settled upon a target - a boulder half the size of a grown man, about twenty steps away. He grasped the scroll in the right hand, assumed a dueling stance, and pointed it at the rock. With an effort of will he took a mental breath, drawing in an ethereal substance that first came to be and out of which all else that is physical originates - Dahritkhran - and letting it manifest in the confines of his body before pouring it into the scroll as hastily as he was able to ere its energy went into bringing ruin upon his flesh instead of doing his bidding.
For a fleeting moment, he sensed the rising fury of the substance, which recalled the eternal hatred of its masters toward the living. Yet with sheer force of will, he swiftly crushed its indignant resistance, and at last, the primordial matter yielded to him. It flowed into the scroll, enveloped it in a white flame that burned it in an instant, and manifested in the form of a round stone the size of a fist, cloaked in a quivering blaze. The two lads watched its swift flight with their breath held in anticipation. Alas, the firestone missed its target and instead hit a tree that stood at a distance behind it. A soft tsk of disappointment escaped Vito's lips as the projectile burst into dust upon impact, its explosion resounding loudly, yet leaving little more than a minor wound upon the unfortunate specimen of flora.
"Alas..." the slender figure muttered as he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Someone needs to train his aim."
"It's hard to get used to the sight of burning paper in my hands. It throws me off the target a bit," gave as an excuse the young wizard with a shrug.
"What good is a spell that won't hit its target? You need to work on that."
Vito let out a sigh with a slight nod and averted his gaze, glancing at the intended target and the tree that suffered the consequences of his inaccuracy.
"Are you sure you don't want to try casting again? Maybe it will work this time."
Andrea furrowed his brows as his face turned away and he spoke: "No, thank you. Not only is it hard and takes a lot of focus, but also painful. I would rather rely on a good old weapon."
"It wouldn't be painful if you did as I told you. You mustn't let mana linger inside; you need to keep it moving."
"Easier said than done. I can barely take it in, let alone move it around my body or do anything even more complicated."
"It takes practice, but-"
"Just get done with it already and let's go hunting."
A heavy sigh of resignation escaped Vito's lips before he mumbled: "Okay…" Yet a lasting moment later, his voice rose anew, firmer than before. "Though, I still don't understand why you do it at all. You aren't a villager after a pillaging."
"Because we have nothing better to do. It's better than just walking around the forest pointlessly," the blond replied with a roll of his eyes.
"Speak for yourself. I can think of many things much better to do. Walking, reading… many things are far better than running around the forest akin to a barbarian after an animal I don't even plan to eat," he said frowning with a shake of his head.
A smirk appeared upon the face of his companion and but a word left his mouth: " Inkhorn."
Vito waved his hand dismissively with furrowed brows and said: "Oh, keep your wit for your mirror. Anyway, we will go after I hit that boulder."
"Just make it quick," was the answer, and so, the dialogue was over.
He repeated the preparations, yet as he drew the runes upon a new scrap of paper, he gave the rune of size an extra stroke and omitted the rune of fire. He finished the spell, stood up, rolled the scrap into a scroll, and pointed it at the boulder anew. The paper burst into flames, yet this time he stood strained and still. A stone two times the size of the previous one came into existence and set off towards its target. Yet missed, flowing past only a tad closer to the intended trajectory.
The young wizard silently cursed his lack of accuracy and repeated the process anew and anew. Eventually, a projectile of the same properties crossed the intended path the way Vito desired it to. It hit the boulder, coming undone, and a crack spread across the middle of the boulder, splitting it in two halves that remained standing by resting their weight upon each other, still vainly hanging onto the appearance of a solid rock.
Sensing the oncoming drowsiness subside to the excitement of success, he raised his chin faintly with a satisfied smile and exclaimed: "At last!" He put his hands on his hips and let out a sigh, then turned back to Andrea and muttered after a pause: "We can go now."
"Wait..." Andrea furrowed his brows and squinted his eyes as he looked into the cracked boulder and pointed at it. "Look, there is something glimmering inside."
They paced towards the split boulder and both bent down before it, gazing into the cavity. Yet, failing to make out anything more, they resolved to remove the obstacle. The two lads gripped the top edges of the opposite halves, the cool and rough texture pressing against their palms, and at the same time strained their muscles to move the two pieces apart, an involuntary grunt escaping their mouths. As they began to move, Vito and Andrea swiftly moved out of the way of the falling halves, that were striving to crush their feet. The two halves crashed to the ground with an unsatisfied thud, robbed of their chance to do harm, and revealed to their sight a chamber the shape of a square divided in two parts likewise.
In one of the sides of it laid serenely a tome with an intricate cover. Its edges were clad in metal that seemed to be gold of the quality most exceptional that shone with a lux of its own and was adorned with sophisticated ornaments. Out of its center protruded the facial part of a skull that once belonged to man, now its hollow sockets, oozing with the mythical darkness of night, devouring any light that dared step into their confines, yet within their abyss, one could glimpse two distant stars shine. Encircling it counter-clockwise, a skeletal serpent coiled in a flawless circle, its bared jaws biting gluttonously into its own tail, frozen in an eternal feast upon itself.
And then, an unfamiliar emotion seized them - not amazement, but a dread most reverental - though they knew not for certain why. Not for the darkness, ravenous for light, not for the stars, piercing into their souls, nor for any other feature in particular. But because such was the banner of The One. They knew it not, yet their hearts coiled in silent recognition, and their souls trembled.
Bewitched and bewildered before the wonder of creation, the two slowly sat. Andrea, overcome by the sight, faltered mid-motion, reluctant to break his gaze. With the lightness of a feather, Vito's hands reverently and measuredly brushed against the metal edge. As he lifted the tome out of its resting place, he noticed the uncarved facets of metal to be flawlessly smooth, as if covered in oil. Despite his fingers being stained in ashes, the mythical matter was left untarnished by his touch. He gazed into it, expecting his own reflection, yet saw it not. What he presumed to be gold slowly turned half-transparent and exposed to him monstrosities of horror unseen and sceneries of beauty unmatched, shifting the visions in a perpetual exchange.
For time unknown the minds of the two silently swam in the ocean of contemplation and awe, hypnotized by the otherworldly spectacle. Until eventually, the young wizard was granted the image he had first expected the most - himself. He faintly flinched away from the sight in surprise and furrowed his brows. And the image mirrored him. For once that was not a spectacle but a true reflection - so ran his thought.
Yet, his eyes widened, his face paled, and Andrea's expression was so likewise. For the visage of his portrayed in the fairy metal began to grow old at the pace to dread. Such was the pace that the visage started rotting, and ere long there was left naught but bare bone.
Bone, that began to twist. Its contours sharpened, grew jagged; and out of its skull sprouted slender horns. As the razor-sharp spikes formed a crown, the creature's pointy chin lifted in pride.
This made him contemplate more and more. Was this his Fate manifested? He knew not. Nor did he know the source of this divine artifact. And yet, his musings were disturbed—there, in the sockets of the skull, within the phantom reflection, a glow stirred. Two crimson embers flared to life, their fire piercing the ravenous darkness of the hollows.
The two exchanged a silent, fretful glance. The heart of Vito trembled, and his indecision lingered. Yet, with a self-comforting sigh, his slender fingers tightened around the metal-laden edge. The unknown terrified him - alas, the hold of curiosity proved stronger. And now, the folio lay open in his hands, his vision wandering across the page that welcomed him.
Yet, the interior of the book was puzzling no less than its exterior. The letters floated across the paper, continuously rearranging in peculiar currents of divine whims, and transformed into various shapes of alphabets known and not. And as they submerged themselves into the arcane script, one of them was at last permitted to witness a text within his comprehension. "The Tome of Revelations," spoke the letters to the slender boy and he read them aloud.
"Do you know what it is?" he asked, but no answer followed, "Andrea?"
His sight returned to his companion for the first time in this lasting while, and he beheld his thoughtless, unmoving gaze, locked upon the pages. He repeated his question anew, and anew, yet was paid no mind all the same.
At last, he shut the Tome, and once again life and consciousness reflected in the eyes of his friend, whose expression turned mazed. Noticing Vito's concern, he muttered.
"Did you say something?"
"Yes, I did. But are you well?"
"Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be?"
"I don't know… you looked as if your soul left your body for a moment."
"I don't know what you are talking about. In any case, aren't we going to read the book? It certainly looks like there's something interesting in it."
"We probably shouldn't…" muttered the black-haired youth as his mind contemplated. And so, it became clear to him - the Tome was not for all to read.
"Why so?"
"Just trust me, we shouldn't," he said with a stern gaze and stood up, holding the book with both hands against his chest. At last, it came to his notice - his arms were weary from the weight. The artifact strived greatly to the ground, yet ere this moment his bewilderment kept his attention far from his shell.
Andrea furrowed his brows and opened his mouth. Yet, before any word of protest was able to come out, he closed it. He stared in silence at Vito, and eventually nodded.
"If you say so… I suppose I can trust a wizard's judgement on these matters."
"Thank you," Vito replied, nodding in turn. Then, his vision turned to the heavens. The sky had turned crimson, warning the world of the coming dark.
As he was reminded of the passage of time, he returned to the place where his belonging lay and begins to pack. He carefully fit the things he came with in his leather pouch, aiming to make them occupy less space. Then the Tome was shoved inside and he hung the pouch back on his belt. Alas, the artifact's weight dragged his belt down at once, forcing him to hold it up with both hands.
"It is late enough already, let's go back. We can hunt another time."
He sighed and said "Alright…"
And so, the two were on their way, striding with a slight urgency through the red-tinted forest, rays of vanishing light filtering through the leaves. Yet, ere long, Andrea spoke once again.
"You will keep it?"
"No doubt to that."
"Are you sure it is a good idea? You could get caught with it and if someone reports you, your days will be over soon."
"Don't dwell on it. I know better than to show it in public."
"Sometimes public comes where you least expect it. After all, enough people have vanished thanks to them, and somehow, I am sure that all of them believed they wouldn't get caught either…"
"I will do my best to stay discreet, don't worry."
A sigh escaped the blond's mouth as he spoke "Why don't you just join their ranks? You would get to practice magic all you please and not need to hide it. Not to mention the pay and privileges that come with it."
"And that would also place the leash of my life in the hands of aristocracy. Don't you remember how exactly initiation works?"
The face of Vito's friend turned somber and with yet another burdened sigh he muttered "I do."
"Then you must understand me. I don't wish to become someone's slave. At least not to a mere human," after a pause, he added "if anyone can hold power over my fate, then it shall be the me and nobody else."
"And where will that mentality get you?"
"Who knows…" he said with a shrug, "but at least I will be where it gets me thanks to my choices and not someone's whims."
He made a pause, then continued "Maybe that path will cost me… But at least I shall stay true to myself."
"You will be your own undoing one day, mark my words…"
The two walked in silence for a moment, gazing at the peaceful surroundings. No creatures dared bother them with their presence, and the air itself turned still in reverence for the holder of the majestic wonder that bore the mark of the manifestation of grandeur. Alas, the silence was disturbed once again, this time by the slender wizard.
"In fact, … I am more concerned by your willingness to be a part of this system. You know what they are and what they do, so why?"
After a pondering pause, the reply followed "you should know it, Vito… some things cannot be helped. Sometimes it is better to ride the flow instead of trying to oppose it."
"Have you no dignity? No honor?"
"These are loud words. At the end of the day all we want is to have a roof over our heads and stability. And it just so happens that this sense of justice is the opposite of the two."
"And where is the line in this case? How much are they worth?"
"I'm not sure… but you know there are limits to everything, pragmatism included. I don't turn on my friends."
For a lingering moment Vito stopped and his squinted eyes locked on Andrea's. And yet, his doubt was not accompanied by the ability to distinguish the lies from the truths. And he knew it.
"I hope so…"
And so, they resumed their walk to the hometown of theirs. The world was gradually being consumed by the darkness of the incoming twilight. Alas, the serenity of the moment was broken anew, when the young wizard felt his attention drawn to the Tome, a slight unease tugging at his soul. He furrowed his brows and without halting in his steps, he rested his hand on the pouch. Yet, this seemed to not be enough to ease his worries, so he slid his hand inside. And as soon as his fingers came in contact with the wondrous book, a sense of relief washed over him.
But the peace was shattered once again as a whisper resonated in his mind. One he could hardly discern, let alone comprehend, yet one he could not deny. His muscles tensed at the cryptic sound and he glanced around in confusion. His friend raised his brown, and Vito shook his head, dismissing the unvoiced question. Despite the fret rising in him, he could not help the desire to decipher the messages of the unsettling, yet strangely captivating voice. Thus, so he attempted to do, while his companion merely followed along.
Unnoteworthy was the journey back for the blond-haired youth as he kept dragging his feet along the grassy ground in silence. Yet for Vito, it was far more engaging, his mind wandering elsewhere, carried by the whispers of the Tome. He paid little attention to the world outside his consciousness, giving it only as much as it was necessary to not stumble.
Throughout the stroll his trusted friend was trying to get his attention but failed time and time again, receiving only brief, absent-minded responses. Eventually, he abandoned the endeavor, and focused on their surroundings. The midtahdrahk was incoming, he thought with fret and hastened his pace ever so slightly as the flames of the luminary gradually waned on its journey below the horizon to the space unseen. Soon enough, the weary walls of the town became visible to them amidst the trees, and ere long they reached the unplanned opening in the wall that served as their personal passage.
Though it was time to part ways, the brunet remained too consumed in thought to heed social convention. He couldn't not be bothered with recalling to exchange the farewells, and was about to go on about his path when he heard the voice of Andrea.
"You will stay at the library, I take it?"
It took Vito conscious effort to merely remember where he was, and so it also took him a fleeting moment to recall where his destination lay.
"Yes, as always."
A brief silence settled between them as Andrea waited for a farewell that never came.
"In that case… I will pay you a visit when I have the time to. Don't get yourself into trouble with the book."
"Oh yes, come anytime. I am not planning to leave it on my own."
"Till we meet again then."
"Uh-huh, godspeed," Vito said with a somewhat dismissive wave of his hand and went on with his way, submerging once again in the world within his own thought.
As he strolled through the small yet bustling with trade and life town of Teodora, his steps resounded on the stoneway. He passed weary merchants, who were still shouting their stocks and price lists, their enthusiasm and smiles noticeably faint; passed hunched artisans, who were closing their worksteads; passed numerous houses, whose tiled roofs mocked the skies; and on he went until he stood before the towering entrance of the old library.
The wide double doors, hewn of dark varnished wood, bore square carvings with intricate ornaments within their borders. The building of stone loomed proudly over the neighboring houses, its dusty glass windows shaming their modest wooden shutters, its walls of rock envied by the wattle and daub.
At long last, the black-haired youth was distracted from the enigmatic voice. He raised his head, his eyes roaming over the imposing silhouette. Despite his familiarity with the edifice, its stature lost none of its impressive charm.
Once that was the pride of a local lord, upon which he had spent great many a resource. In his lifetime, the town library could effortlessly compete with the splendor of a noble palace. Yet now, it stood as nothing more than a relic of his fascination with knowledge. No longer did it impose awe alone - now, it carried melancholy, for this sacred place had been reduced to an abode of the old. Few ever visited it, and today, young blood once again graced its halls.
Putting aside his contemplation, Vito leant his weight on the left door, propping it with his shoulder, and strained his legs. It remained still, so he put more strength into it, involuntarily holding his breath. At last, with a reluctant creak, the door began to submit. The lad swiftly slipped inside, letting out a sigh of relief as it settled behind him with a thump that echoed throughout the hollows where he stood.
As he breathed out and in, the scent of paper and wood intruded his nose. This scent was a rightful dweller of the place and was known to all who visited it as the one who came there before. And while his nose was welcomed by it, his other sense was greeted by the orderly sight - the hall of the library, symmetrically furnished with towering shelves, upon which countless tomes rested, and numerous benches, each neighboring a table. The furniture was varnished and carved akin to the entrance, reminding silently of the glory past. Alas, its once-pristine surface now bore many a mark of wear and tear - grazes and scrapes, engraved by the ceaseless passage of the years.
Upon his arrival, a small critter rushed out of the labyrinth of shelves - a black green-eyed cat, its paws tiptoeing soundlessly against the stone floor made of broad polished rocks. It rubbed its side against his leg, curving its tail and staring silently into his eyes. The cat was half past a decade old, but was still brimming with energy. Vito knelt with a chuckle and a light smile as he returned the gaze of the creature and began to stroke it gently.
"Did you miss me, Murchello?" he muttered in a soft voice.
As the two engaged in their affection, another figure soon appeared in the hall of the library - a man of age, his long beard and hair gleaming like silver beneath the rays of the waning Sol of Day. He smiled warmly as his dark-brown eyes fell on the boy, waiting for him to notice his presence.
Being attentive of his surroundings that time, the youth had noted the slow footsteps at once, yet chose to linger in the moment for a little longer. He indulged in the cat's silent request and only after a few strokes more did he straighten, nodding toward the elder with a faint smile.
"Greetings, Raul."
"Welcome back, Vito," the man replied in a quiet tone, returning the nod, " Come, let us take a seat," and gestured to follow him.
The two turned to stride over to the closest bench with a table before it, while the cat treaded behind before jumping on the table. They sat on the opposite sides of the settle and the voice of Raul resounded anew.
"How have your practices gone?"
"I was about to mention that," he made a pause, "The practices went well, my aim seems to be getting better and I can cast more spells before the fatigue starts to take me over," his voice lowered in pitch and stopped for a brief moment, "Yet, my progress is not the most exciting part of the day."
Reaching into the pouch at his belt, Vito undid the knot that kept it closed and drew out of it his peculiar find. Being untrained for handling the heavy weight, his fingers faltered as he tried to put the Tome on the table and it fell with a thud, making Murchello flinch before it warily stepped closer to take in the new scent. With a sigh, he continued "but this thing is."
Raul's brow arched as he leant forward, bracing his arms against the table. His eyes narrowed as they roamed over the artifact, his face hovering above its surface. And his lined features tensed, the furrows on his forehead deepening as his mind strained to comprehend the nature of what lay before him, yet as his soul too was pierced by the fear at the unknowingly familiar pattern of its front.
The skull's sockets on the cover glared into his eyes, the mystical metal glinted under the crimson rays of the Sol as a wondrous spectacle of shifting visions graced him, filtering through the metal half-transparent: a majestic tree, each of whose branches were ending in a flower head the size of a human one; a ferocious creature, whose body was a blend betwixt man and cat, born of a bond condemned; a puny village amidst snowy peaks, all faces of its folk resembling one another akin to rain drops.
As the Tome grew satisfied with the impression made, it transitioned the show into its final stage - anew it displayed the visage of Vito that steadily aged, rotted, and twisted, leaving behind but a bare and improved carcass, untarnished by flesh, two crimson orbs blazing in its sockets in a prideful and appraising gaze. The old man's furrows deepened even more as he frowned. In the figures' uplifted chin and posture, he discerned pride and contempt. His hoarse whisper broke the silence, his eyes not leaving the artifact.
"How did it come into your hands?"
Vito answered the question by retelling the events of the day, and the story only confused Raul further. The youth was reluctant and yet remained honest, elaborating on the unfathomable whispers projected by the book directly into his mind, what made his interlocutor's concern grow all the more.
The graybeard rested his hand on the flawlessly polished cover of the artifact and gripped its edge to open the book, his hand shaking of the growing fret. As it then lay open, he witnessed the erratically shifting letters that refused to entertain the thought of setting in place to form a comprehensible read before the old man. Raul exerted his mind to the fullest, struggling in vain to derive any semblance of meaning, and found himself starting to fall into a trance, his consciousness drifting into oblivion.
Meanwhile, the young wizard clasped his hands together on his lap and stared intently at the old man, wondering whether he was affected the same way as Andrea or simply deep in thought, which was not a rare occasion. As he pondered, he raised his head, looking up at the orb of day through the dusty window placed high above the entrance. Realizing that the phenomenon was about to occur, he rose from his seat and strolled through the darkening hall until he reached a lesser room in the far corner of the library.
Vito opened the door, stepping inside as the stagnant air comforted his nose with its alluring scent. The premises were furnished as private quarters for the three dwellers of the library, where awaited two beds, a weary table by the wall with three chairs, and a high wardrobe. Vito opened the latter, his glance drifting across the numerous shelves before settling on an iron chandelier with three candles and a tinderbox lying by. He took them in his hands and knelt down to put chandelier on the ground, taking the tinderbox in his hands and opening it. Inside lay flint and steel and a heap of charred cloth that served as tinder. He placed one of the scraps of cloth on the stone floor and pressed the flint against it, then started striking the steel against it. He struck once, he struck twice, he struck thrice. Until at last a starburst of sparks danced across the cloth and one of them clung, glowing bright orange. Vito dropped the flint and the steel, taking the scrap into his hand and blowing on it for the smolder to grow, then pressed it against the left candle. Though reluctantly, it caught fire, and soon the rest followed as the glowing cloth touched them. Satisfied with the result, he trampled the cloth, putting out the spark, and put it back into the tinderbox. He closed it and rose, putting it back on the shelf and closing the wardrobe, then bent his back for a moment to take the burning chandelier in his hands and heading back out of the premises.
Ere long, Vito returned to Raul and placed the new source of light on the table with a thud, drawing the cat's attention to it, its flames glinting in the creature's green eyes as it sat at the opposite corner. By that time the scenery behind the window was submerged in nigh-total darkness, illuminated by artificial lights only. The Sol of Day had already been extinguished, the Sol of Night not yet lit, and the sky once again looked the same to blind and seeing alike. Such was the nature of midtahdrahks, the events of the plane that hosted stars, which made day and night stand apart and occurred twice a day.
Vito, noting the old man's prolonged trance, sighed and sat back beside him. His hands gripped the Tome, drawing it away, then shut it tight once again. As Raul found himself to be the master of his own mind anew, he batted his eyelashes several times and turned his head to the boy in confusion.
"Seems that this book temporarily snuffs out the soul of each who attempts to read it. Of each who is not me, that is…"
With a weary exhale, the graybeard covered his face briefly, rubbing it in thought and faintly shaking his head. With exhausted eyes he looked at Vito and opened his mouth. Alas, no sound came, and a lasting silence befell the room as those present struggled to find words to utter.
A while later, Raul spoke up, not paying much mind to Vito's words "I was not reading it, was I? I remember opening it, then… then what…," he furrowed his brows and looked down, stroking his beard in an attempt at recollection.
Vito shook his head, "Andrea tried to read it with me too and the same happened to him. He looked as if the time he spent staring into the book did not exist to him."
"And yet, you say you can read it?"
The boy nodded, "Yes. Though, I have not read beyond the title."
"And the title was?"
"The Tome of Revelations."
The old man fell silent once again, wondering where he had heard this name, if at all. Despite being a librarian, he struggled to discern any connections of the newly-learned word composition to the pre-existing memories.
While Vito's aged companion was submerged deep in his own thought, the lad decided to open the book halfway, shielding Raul's vision from it. He leant forwards and focused on the disordered script, determined to find out what was the veiled mystery that only he was allowed to access. The old man, in his turn, closely watched him with a scrutinizing look.
As the youth laid his eyes on the open page of yellowish paper, letters began to take comprehensible shape anew. Though seeming to be written by hand, they were conjured right before his eyes, shaped by the act of reading instead. Ere long, a new message could be seen: "Upon a measly meadow is the summit disgorged. Rejoice and weep, for upon it shall The Greatest lay His yoke, irrejectable in its pride." And as he read those words, he felt an unseen presence gaze at him from the confines of the book. Then, Vito flinched as Raul's voice intruded his hearing.
"What does it say?"
Turning his head back to him, the lad sat in silence for a fleeting moment, yet as he was about to recite the passage, his attention was drawn back to the Tome by newly-formed words: "To behold is a right, to know is a blessing. Quail to tarnish the sacred!"
And thus, Vito spoke with a faint tremble in his voice, "I don't think it wants me to tell."
"Wants? I have seen a book of various kind, Vito, yet I have yet to see a single one that is able to wish."
"True, but have you seen a book that steals your ability to think and act before?"
The old man fell silent and shook his head.
"I don't know what this is… but it seems neither do you. And right now, I believe I should keep this to myself. I simply feel I'm obliged to…"
The bearded man nodded in response and spoke solemnly, "Intuition is not to be dismissed. Let us listen to it."
Vito bobbed his head, his eyes returning to the Tome in search of new revelations. Alas, it remained just as it was, refusing to indulge the reader for now. Unsatisfied yet unable to change it, he decided to focus on the presented to him. As he was struggling to unravel the meaning, his gaze wandered back to the lightless sky in the window. "What is this so-called measly meadow... And a disgorged summit, hm? Does it imply mountains fall from the skies?" he wondered, "No, this can't be right. It's a metaphor… But what does it mean? It speaks of some burden, and a rather important one, it seems."
The answer was yet to emerge, and so he spent two solar cycles in the attempts to unravel it.
Alas, time passed, the Tome remained silent, the Sols extinguished and flamed anew. Yet as the fourth midtahdrahk dawned since then, he still had found no success in this endeavor. And thus, decided to temporarily occupy his mind with matters more familiar, in hopes that change of focus may give birth to clarity.
It was morning and Vito was memorizing more sigils and their combinations, as well contemplating the nature of the book, its words, and the witnessed sights. Not being confident in either of his assumptions on the meaning of what he was told, he was eager to receive explanations, yet opening the Tome anew and anew, he was offered none. It refused to further indulge one who misunderstood its revelations, such was both its mercy and judgement alike. Or such was its stance for the lasting while, at least…
He was sitting on a bench by a table that were placed the furthest away from the entrance, shielding him from prying eyes. However seldom the edifice housed visitors, he chose to safeguard his self from the possibility of being seen doing what the law disapproved. Several books on spellcrafting lay open upon the table, the Tome resting closed on a corner of it. Closest to him were two minor heaps of parchment, one scribbled as a result of his studies, and the other pristine. In a moment of ponder as his head was propped on his arm, his ears bothered his attention.
"Mayhaps you should visit a church," said the old man, interrupting his process of thought.
"Hm? Why?" the young wizard asked in startlement.
"Were you not at lack for ideas on something about this finding of yours? You could head there to make an enquiry."
"I'm entirely sure I will have it seized if they happen to know I possess something of this kind. Why would I go there?"
"Because they may know what you need to know. There is no need to show nor tell you have found it. Simply say that a passing merchant recited to you a legend on a wonder that vaguely resembled what you have found."
"And what next?"
"Ask them what that might be and whether the story may be true, feigning ignorance," Raul made a pause, "In the worst case, you will be sent off. And in the best, you may learn something about this book of yours."
The lad remained silent in thought for a lingering moment, then nodded, "It sounds reasonable, but… I don't believe they will be of much help whatever the cause. Even if they do know something, I doubt they will tell."
"That much is true, they are not keen on sharing. Yet you should try anyway, since you have no better leads thus far."
Vito sighed, "I can't argue with that," then added after a moment, "Will you go with me?"
Raul shook his head, "Sorry, Vito, I am afraid it is better for you to go on your own. My presence shall make your inquiry less believable."
One another sigh escaped the lips of the lad and he furrowed his brows, looking away, "Right."
"I bid you good fortune, should you decide to do it," the old man said and slowly paced away, disappearing out of the youth's sight behind the many bookshelves once again.
Meanwhile, the wizard of no tuition gazed hollowly into the books lying before him as his mind drifted elsewhere while his arm stretched towards the cause of his dilemma on the table corner to have his fingers brush against its polished surface. He wished to acquire lore on the enigmatic wonder, and yet was fretful to head out with no accompaniment. Not merely so for his reluctance of leaving the confines of what he perceived as safety, but also for his doubt in own abilities to lie.
Seconds of present were sliding into the past, and so did minutes and scores of them while Vito remained preoccupied with deciding whether the possible results were significant enough to be worth the risk. In moments when he accepted the worth, he pictured many a scenario of what he would say and do, so as to get the best result and prepare himself. And in other ones, he searched excuses not to do it. And as the two states replaced one another, all the more time was spent with no true actions.
He closed the books that lay before him and placed them in a tower-like shape. He fixed their positions so as to line them up in parallel. He noticed that their sizes were not sorted from the biggest to the smallest, so he rearranged the makeshift tower. Yet the books were not in properly parallel lines anymore, so he fixed them again, gazing at it from the sides and shifting one book or another again and again. Changing the position of one book altered the positions of others, creating more and more need for changing even more positions.
"So, what did you decide to do?" resounded the voice of Raul, making Vito flinch and forcing him to recall the true purpose of the current moment, of which he had long forgotten.
He glanced with disappointment at the accidentally misplaced book, which spoiled his lining that was but a few alterings more away from attaining flawlessness. Eventually, he resigned himself to what was better to do and spoke with a heavy sigh, "I will go."