Excerpt from the Oracle at Fhahrazad’s ‘Thirty-Three Eventualities.’
“The second sign of the twenty-eighth eventuality is a sudden darkness. It shall happen in a secluded place, and no one will know for a time. It is a minor sign, and its appearance shall herald a start, an end, a new life and a new death. At this sign’s coming, the advent of the twenty-eighth eventuality is nigh.”
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As Yenna rounded the corner to approach Jiin, she listened carefully for any reason to back off. Crying, shouting, stomping of feet, any of that would have made Yenna reasonably sure that Jiin needed to be left alone and that she could wash her hands of the business by bounding back down the corridors of Highshine. Instead, all she could hear was a confused muttering—a conversation with only one side audible. It was only by the miracle of her heightened senses that Yenna could even hear the muttering—before she could approach close enough to hear the content of the stonecarver’s quiet monologue, the click of her hooves on the stone tiles gave her away.
“Yenna? S’that you?” Jiin’s voice was sharp with caution, the edge of uncertainty, as if she was uncertain if she was caught doing something embarrassing.
“Yes, Jiin, and Narasanha is with me.”
“Stonecarver.” The bodyguard’s voice was a low rumble, and her eyes flicked about as though expecting a hidden foe—or avoiding eye contact. Jiin was leaning against a stone railing, a somewhat precarious drop behind her. The city sprawled out below, glittering even in the night, somehow busier for the darkness. The balcony was dimly lit and Yenna could only really see Jiin in silhouette, though the tension in her posture was poorly hidden.
Yenna approached, her mind whirling. Do I apologise for intruding, or hide my overhearing? Do I ask if she’s okay, if I can help, or stay clear? Agh, this is why I keep my nose out of other peoples’ affairs.
The mage settled on the most neutral option she could think of. “I was wondering if you were free to, erm, help me with some research.”
Jiin offered a wry laugh. “S’pose you’ll need Demvya. Not much need for me.”
Unsure of how to respond, Yenna looked over at Narasanha—the bodyguard offered no assistance, appearing equally uncomfortable with the situation.
“I… Well, I do need her help with the black book. But I was also curious as to how your body is holding up, hosting a spirit like her. There’s a number of rather fascinating tests we can perform, which really steps into a wonderful selection of largely untouched or underappreciated fields of arcane study!” Yenna did her best to smile, the thought of juicy data and research bolstering her defense against the awkward situation. “I dare say you’ll have your place in the history books plenty of times over!”
Jiin shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, muttering inaudibly under her breath. She looked out towards the city, wiped a hand across her face and nodded.
“Yep, alright. I can help. S’no problem, really.”
Without another word, Jiin pushed herself up and walked into the hall alongside Yenna and Narasanha. Now in the light, Yenna could see Jiin’s eyes were red, her characteristic easy-going expression worn hard into an uneasy scowl. One could practically hear the cogs whirring in her head, deep thoughts and internal debates eating away at her. Once again, Yenna felt compelled to ask if she was okay, ask her what she could do to help—once again, her nerve failed her, and the group walked in uneasy silence the entire way back to the research chamber.
When they returned, Valkh was deep in study—observing the dagger had left them with a lot of data, the kind that could take weeks to fully appreciate, and the researcher took to it as though starved. The silupker in the room was still in the same position, entirely unmoving.
“This sure is a, uh, place.” Jiin’s observation seemed a weak attempt at levity, hands on her hips as she surveyed the chamber. “Real fancy stuff. Proper workshop, this.”
“Welcome to my laaaab,” Valkh grinned wide, finally looking up from her work. “Shall we inspect your spirit first, or your tome, Yennaaa?”
Yenna wasn’t sure if she could claim either of them were hers, but she wasn’t about to start arguing semantics with Valkh. Instead, she turned to Jiin.
“If we inspect the black book, it will likely require Demvya’s full attention,” Yenna explained. “However, if we inspect you, it may be somewhat… invasive. Whether or not we go through with that is entirely up to you, and I can explain every test we are likely to perform ahead of time.”
Jiin thought for a moment—conferring with Demvya, perhaps?—before plucking the black book out of the folds of her clothes.
“I think it might be fine for Demvya to take the wheel for a bit. How long’re you gonna be?”
Yenna reached forward to take the book from Jiin, eager to get underway—she caught herself momentarily when she realised Valkh was making an odd panting noise, and a glance down at her snapped the researcher out of her own strange state.
“A-Ahem, well, preliminary testing could take about an hour, though we should stop for dinner at some point. V-Valkh, I’d been meaning to ask, do you normally take your dinner here?” Yenna wanted an excuse to take her eyes off the book, ashamed she had already been taken by the edge of its allure.
Valkh gave a nod, her eyes flicking uneasily between Yenna and the book. “I, well, sometimes do so, when I’ve got work to dooo. I could have the servants bring up a meeeeal.”
“Then s’all good, right?” Jiin gave an unconvincing grin. “You’ve got me the whole night, then. I’m not sleepin’ much tonight anyways… with the whole thing we’re doin’ tomorrow, an’ all that.”
Whatever the stonecarver was, she wasn’t good at lying. Yenna wasn’t about to argue or pry—it simply wasn’t how she operated. Before the room could fall back into awkward silence, Narasanha spoke up.
“I shall remain here for now—I’ve already sharpened my weapons, and there is nothing to do for the time being. Call upon me if you need an arm.” With a taciturn nod, the bodyguard took a seat to one side of the room. Narasanha stared at them all as though she were rating their performance—it gave Yenna the deep urge to hurry up.
“Right. Book first. Demvya, I’ve explained to Valkh– ack, I didn’t introduce you, this is Valkh, the owner of this lab.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, but I merely work heeeeere.”
“A PLEASURE TO MEET THEE.”
Valkh jumped as Demvya echoed her greeting, her eyes going wide at the sudden transformation. She gave a rock-clacking laugh as she regained her composure, directing Demvya towards a round bench engraved with miniscule circles and sigils.
“I hadn’t expected the transition between person and spirit to be quite sooo… suddennn? Rest assured, I have been informed of the dangers the book presents to meee.”
Demvya gave a small nod, placing the black book into the centre of the bench as directed.
“I SHALL WATCH OVER THEE. HOWEVER, THOU SHALT ADDRESS ME AS A GODDESS.”
“Ehhh? Oh, of coursssse.” Valkh gave a somewhat dismissive nod, her eyes focused on the smooth metal surface. She ran a hand across it almost reverently, wetting her lips unconsciously with her tongue. Demvya reached over and grabbed Valkh by the head, startling the small researcher.
“CAREFUL, MORTAL. THY INTEREST FEEDS IT. ITS HOOKS ARE HIDDEN BEHIND SMOOTH CARAPACE, COOL AND GENTLE AS ONE DIVES IN, BARBED AND BLOODY ON THE RETURN. IF I DEEM IT A DANGER, I SHALL TAKE THE BOOK FROM THEE—OR THEE FROM THE BOOK.”
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“Y-Yes, just let go of my heaaad!” Valkh struggled somewhat, pushing away Demvya’s hand with great effort. Yenna knew from experience that her difficulty there was less a case of supernatural strength, and more that Jiin was far better suited to physical pursuits than the lizard-like researcher. The mage was glad she hadn’t necessitated such a rough handling.
“It’s really important to keep in mind that it’s just a book, no matter how odd.” Yenna felt a bit silly giving advice on the matter when she also could hardly resist the black book’s pull. “No one’s going to take it away from you permanently, it’ll be there later, and you don’t need to do anything drastic to it.”
Valkh smoothed out her messy hair and nodded at Yenna. Not risking eye contact with the book itself, the researcher set to fiddling with several small dials on her side of the table. Various sections of the heavily inscribed table lit up, completing a spell to cause the book to hover slightly in mid-air. It wobbled for a moment as though uncertain it would be affected—reaching a decision, it stabilised, allowing Valkh to proceed to the next stage.
Yenna did her part too. The table’s controls weren’t laid out exactly as she was used to, but everything was there. Back at the university she studied at, Yenna worked with devices like this all the time, research benches that employed complicated interlocking spells to allow students and researchers to turn their subjects this way and that and look through myriad arcane eyes without having to manually draw spells and risk all going awry. A suite of safety enchantments kept the user safe, ensuring any magical short circuiting would cause the entire apparatus to fall silent and inert rather than cascade into a far greater issue. At the university the controls on these had been displayed by illusions and manipulated by the swish and flick of hands manipulating magic—perfect for mages, useless for everyone else. This Miluran version replaced the illusory displays with knobs, dials, switches, sliding control sticks and miniature readouts hidden behind thin panes of clear glass. After a moment’s acclimitisation, Yenna found the distinctly more physical controls to fit her muscle memory like a glove.
Despite that, the next hour of analysis was some of the most excruciating and frustrating research Yenna had ever performed. The scanning and prying of the table’s spells frequently spat out absolute nonsense, useless data that couldn’t possibly be true. Any attempts to scry beneath the black metal surface proved utterly useless and more than once the entire bench went dark as its safety features kicked in, necessitating several minutes of coaxing the arcane machinery back to life.
When it wasn’t the bench giving the mechanical equivalent of an exasperated shrug, it was a split between Yenna and Valkh failing to resist the book’s allure and Demvya’s overly cautious meddling.
“W-waaaait,” Valkh warbled as Demvya yanked the book away, “I was so close to something therrrrre!”
“THOU ART CLOSE TO GIVING IN. STOP. BREATHE. LOOK ELSEWHERE, REFOCUS YOUR MIND. KNOW YOUR MORTAL LIMITS.”
Yenna couldn’t help but sigh along with Valkh—every time it felt like they were on to something, like they were just a step away from solving the puzzle, Demvya would snatch the book away, or smack at their hands, deactivate the machinery or, in one instance, cover their eyes entirely. Like a mother hiding something obscene away from her children, it seemed Demvya couldn’t bear to let either of them look at certain aspects of the book.
“Gahhhh! We are going to get nowhere like thisssss.” Valkh’s grumbling had grown more and more exasperated as time passed, and she was swiftly reaching her limits. Enthusiasm for a fascinating subject had swiftly died in the arms of Demvya’s restraints, and both mage and researcher were close to agreeing to just kick the spirit out and let the book do whatever it wanted to their minds if it meant understanding it.
“DINNER,” Demvya intoned. Both Valkh and Yenna blinked, surprised.
“Dinner…?” Yenna frowned, until realisation caught up. Her stomach rumbled loudly, causing the mage to blush. “R-Right. Dinner! Valkh, how about we have something to eat? Refresh ourselves and come back with fresh eyes. Narasanha, will you eat with us? Jiin?”
The stoic guard, all four arms crossed, broke her nearly hour-long statue stillness to grace them with a singular nod. Jiin did not deign to answer.
“JIIN WILL EAT.” Demvya’s proclamation felt like she was talking to herself. “THY FLESH HUNGERS, ITS STRENGTH FADES. THOU WILT EAT.”
Yenna wasn’t about to argue, though Valkh looked like she had a few choice words to say. The lizard-like researcher ran a hand through her messy hair, her cheeks puffed out as she exhaled and let her tension flow out of her.
“Right, I will call down to the kitchenssss. They work fast, so we shall not have to waaait. Do you have any preferencesss?” Valkh looked at Yenna, as though the other people in the room didn’t matter. Yenna deferred, looking over to Narasanha.
“I’ve eaten raw meat from a freshly slain beast in a storm where I could make no fire, I shall not be picky.” Meeting Yenna’s eye, the bodyguard allowed the tiniest smirk at her expression of interest. “I shall tell you about it some time—it was a good hunt.”
“O-Okay then… Jiin? Or, Demvya, I suppose?”
“I SUP ONLY ON MAGIC, THOU KNOW’ST THIS. JIIN WOULDST PREFER SOMETHING GREASY ENOUGH TO DROWN HER SORROWS.”
Demvya’s face contorted in such a strange way that Yenna was momentarily worried that something had gone wrong with her—after a moment, she realised that Jiin had cringed so hard at Demvya’s honesty that it had shone through the spirit’s unreadable regality.
“A-Alright, thank you, Demvya, Narasanha. I’m…” Yenna looked back towards Valkh, humming thoughtfully, “I’m fine with anything. I’m quite curious to see what you normally eat here, Valkh.”
Valkh gave a small groan, and Yenna wondered if she hadn’t committed some faux pas. “Alright, something greasy I can dooo.”
The researcher went over to a small panel on the wall by the door and retrieved a tube from it, a thin black hose extending down as she brought it up to her mouth. Yenna watched as Valkh murmured her order into the pipe, marvelling at the largely mundane system—no magic required, just a long tube through which sound could travel freely.
The group moved back out of the research chamber to one of the many small lounge areas dotted around the library—far enough away from the books that Yenna was comfortable eating here without fear of that crab-like silupker librarian coming to tell her off. The mage barely had time to crack open a nearby book—some extraordinarily dry manual on proper techniques for reinforcing mineshafts—before their food arrived.
A young yolm man, slender and graceful in a fine servant’s outfit with an iron cap over his conical horn, wheeled in a covered trolley with such silent precision that Yenna only noticed his presence for the fact that Valkh had momentarily stopped talking.
“Your meal, madams.”
With a voice like silk, Yenna might have called him fair if it weren’t for Milur’s more cut-and-dry approaches to gender. He delicately placed two large silver dishes onto the table between everyone, along with four smaller porcelain plates, elegant crystal glasses and two decanters—one water, one a sweet-smelling liquid Yenna didn’t recognize. The servant lifted the lids on the silver dishes, and almost all of Yenna’s senses were treated to an amazing display. Just how is this supposed to be Valkh’s quick and easy mid-research dinner?!
They were two round circles of dough, slathered almost entirely in a fragrant sauce and covered with a variety of artfully arranged toppings. Diced pieces of meat, slices of vegetable, sprinklings of fragrant herbs, all glistening with just a bit of oil—freshly fried or baked all together, Yenna couldn’t exactly tell which with her lacking culinary expertise, it set the mage’s stomach to rumbling fiercely in anticipation¹. The dough had been cut into triangular sections, one of which Valkh picked up with her bare hand. She opened her mouth wide, wider than Yenna had expected, and ate half of the slice in one go.
The others took a piece for themselves as the servant poured them each a drink—the dark green liquid, sweet-smelling with a hint of fizz, bubbled unexpectedly as the man took great pains to pour it slowly into each glass. Narasanha took a bite of her slice first, an eyebrow raising in surprise as she took another bite. Demvya attempted to eat and gave up—Jiin nearly dropped her slice as the spirit handed back control, and the woman looked extremely flustered at Yenna’s gaze. As a cover, the stonecarver quickly crammed the piece into her mouth and went back for a second.
Yenna’s interest in everyone else faded as she bit into her own slice. The ingredients complimented each other wonderfully, the meat satisfying to bite into, grease and flesh offset by crisp, sometimes juicy bits of vegetable. The fragrant smell, the visual presentation, the bold and fascinating taste, it was all quite a fine respite from the frustration of their poor research. The drink was bold too in its own way, fiercely fruity with a sharp bite that woke the mage up and made her feel alert to the point of being slightly jittery—a cup of kaffe in every sip.
All in all, the meal was superb—Yenna ate a few more slices, while Narasanha had the lion’s share of the meal. The servant remained on hand the entire time, his silent waiting slightly unnerving, though the mage wasn’t about to complain whenever he would top up her glass. He even seemed to be cognisant of how much of the strange green drink was too much—after a second glass, the servant gave her only water. Jiin ate her food in silence, except for a few appreciative noises at the quality of the meal, and all of them thanked the servant for his time.
Valkh gave a decidedly unladylike burp, her wide mouth causing the sound to cut dramatically through the air. Jiin gave a snorting giggle, the first real smile Yenna had seen on her face—once again, the mage felt like she should ask the stonecarver to talk, to allow her to be happy once more. Once again, Yenna’s nerve failed, and they all headed back into the research chamber.
The room had gone dark, the lighting dimmed in their absence. As the group wandered in, Valkh broke off to the side to paw at the panel by the door, muttering in annoyance as the controls refused to operate. Yenna felt a hand on top of her lower back—Narasanha had tensed up and stopped her from taking another step. The door clicked shut behind them, and Valkh finally managed to coax the lights to turn back on.
In the centre of the room, right in front of them, the snake-like silupker wore the skull of the undead sorcerer. Its eyes glowed as it stared them down. Yenna went dead still, and even Demvya froze in surprise. Valkh screamed. The sorcerer was freed again.
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¹ - Yenna never ends up asking the name of this particular dish, being marginalia overshadowed by events before and after, but they are referred to occasionally as Miluran pie, an open pie or topped rounds. Miluran culture persists to the present day in the form of this fascinatingly versatile meal, of which I have grown rather fond during my research. A veritable feast for the sensory organs, I can only hope that you too may experience the joy of consuming Miluran pie sometime soon.