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Mimir rested in opulence that would beggar almost any mind. Sighing deeply, he returned to his eternal work: the expansion of his dao. His table was littered with a few artifacts and precious visions in almost perfect cores but another pile of core after core sprawled across its top, most worthless cracked things that barely held their memories and visions. He’d longed developed a system separating out the cores and artifacts of knowledge as they came in, hauled in by his servants as they arrived. Usually, his table was sparsely covered, the artifacts to one side prepared for use if needed and a small intake area for the cores holding visions and knowledge. Often, it was a small pile of two or three decent quality cores that would allow him perusal several times before dusting under the strain, but recently, a massive pile of weak cores had begun streaming in. Their poor quality had at first insulted him, but as their quantity grew, he found himself somewhat mollified.
Some war… conflict… likely. Never heard of it… must be a backwater somewhere… a bunch of useless new daos the idiots have never seen before and are certain will be new… bah! Likely useless… but maybe I can sell them if they reveal something good… some moron mortal will be more than willing to purchase with the hopeless dream of seeking immortality!
His hand wandered over and reflexively picked up the first core, an act repeated dozens of times a day over thousands upon thousands of years. He didn’t even need to look as he gazed out his window. A core came into his hand and he brought it up, evaluating it carefully before extracting the knowledge. Hmm… this… He snorted in derision. I’ll be lucky to extract all the data before this core dusts… He frowned even more, considering just rushing the extraction purely because he couldn’t see how the data filling such a meaningless core could hold any value.
Almost, almost he disrespected knowledge, but then he sighed deeply and put his true effort to honor the knowledge in the core. It was in his very nature, after all. How could he dishonor himself if he were to do such a thing? Ever as cautious as he could be, he slipped a slither of mana towards the core and connected to it, only allowing the core to eject it’s knowledge at an incredibly slow pace.
The initial data as it came in threw Mimir off balance. Huh… what is… the information slowly stole into his conscious and as it grew more complete, his confusion grew ever more and more. A core of hearsay… direct interview with… witness? A few moments later, the final piece of classification defining the memory held in the core, often called metadata on Earth, escaped safely from the decrepit core. No… not a witness… a citizen of that plane? Truly? Information continued on. Water… tubes? Continent… worldwide spanning?! Impossible! As the interview continued on and he heard the words spoken by the speaker, his doubt wavered. He’s… sincere… a madman then? But… it would work… but why?!? Why not just… a water core! Why?!
Mimir found himself wrapped up in the story, fascinated by the description. It was not a long conversation, lasting little more than a great Bell but Mimir found himself captivated by the thought. I need to preserve this … if only for the sheer fascination and futility? The scope of such an undertaking… just… Mimir quickly fiddled around his desk to pull out a perfect core, one of his very few still empty and available.
He cautiously wrapped the memory he’d already retrieved and began shuffling it into the perfect core at rapid speed. He quickly caught up to the memory still trickling out of the almost destroyed core and but did not increase the speed of extraction. He did allow the memory to play out in his own thoughts, savoring it before passing it into the perfect core. The memory continued until complete and while it was fascinating, no new piece of extraordinary information came forth, although the greater explanations began to bring forth an understanding within Mimir of how it would be possible to accomplish. Still, the working of it left him mind-boggled and he giggled to hold another precious oddity.
The memory ended and passed from the ruined core and the core dusted to nothing and Mimir tsked. It would have been nice to verify the memory, but… He still evaporated the dust from existence with a soft expulsion of mana before turning back to look at his new precious memory. His sighed in satisfaction and placed the new core memory in a treasured place on his desk, settling it into one of a dozen small depression at the head of his desk; the place where he put important or cherished knowledge for a time. It wasn’t good enough to find a place in the permanent collection resting in the various shelves behind him, but… it certainly warranted another perusal or two before it was placed in his vault for all time.
He turned to another core, now excited to see what was next and this time deliberately chose another core. This time, he chose a core in much better condition, nodding to see it. Could use it another dozen times… if I’m careful with the extraction! Maybe two dozen! Mimir felt the hum of pride buzz through him at the realization that his skills allowed his cores to last triple, even quadruple the times of others. He hummed as he lifted it, exploring the core carefully before delving deep into its memory.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Hmmm. Oh! Same priest… interesting… and… same citizen… but… economy of scale? Mimir listened on, growing ever more excited but simultaneously concerned, the concern spiking straight to worry when the citizen explained quite clearly the impact of the economy of scale. His concern, however, warred with intrigue. So much wealth? Truly? To find among… oh! Realization slammed home and Mimir recognized the work as a similar matter to the faith. How… why is a servant of the gods and goddesses passing such information on to mortals? They have no need for… It is the same as I do for my temples, or Plutus … but?! He continued listening in and while he did not learn much more, the citizen seemed certain of the wealth that could be generated if it was returned to the masses. Why … why waste such knowledge in the hands of the mortals? I am able to ply the depths of the mortals and find any knowledge. It is mine. How does that… Mimir’s thoughts wandered, twisting through the idea presented and understood the value of finding the diamond in the rough, but struggled to understand why the citizen was so adamant to return the knowledge or wealth to the people. After cautiously exploring it, he relegated this knowledge to “guarded,” labeling it such and disseminating it back down through his organization. Can’t let the masses think they deserve such.
Over the next week, Mimir found himself titillated, excited, overwhelmed, shocked, and terrified in equal measure. He found himself growing ever more shocked as the same priest and citizen described concepts that were utterly foreign to him but simultaneously enchanting.
He spent almost a day struggling to understand the man’s ‘mathematics.’ Memorizing the numbers proved simple enough but while it proved slightly useful to instantly know how to add simple numbers, Mimir dealt with numbers so large that the mathematics seemed meaningless. Still, the memory harbored one of his priceless perfect cores to be stored for all time, or for a very, very long time.
He spent a similar day playing with what the man called ‘writing.’ He invented some fifty seven symbols to represent the various sounds he could easily identify in common and then practiced writing and reading. It was utterly laborious and exhausted Mimir more than he’d ever remembered except for what he could remember of his youth. It worked. It truly did, and for that Mimir found it fascinating. But to develop a society on such a system? Mimir’s mind boggled at the effort to learn such a thing, then the effort to read from such a thing. If the man was to be believed, it was a way to also pass on knowledge, but Mimir couldn’t fathom such a cumbersome method, certain that any learning in this fashion was extremely limited, imperfect, and took such time as to beggar the mind; days, weeks, even months might be spent reading any significant work.
There were a plethora of strange ideas, such as democracy, professional soldiers, free education, and the expectation that knowledge is to be free, a truly horrid thought that incensed Mimir so completely that he immediately marked the knowledge as forbidden and disseminated it down to his people. Each one took one more perfect core from his limited supply, but they proved so powerful or unique, he could not accept them to be lost. Or, in the case of free knowledge, ever to be disseminated again. He would lock that piece of knowledge down tightly amongst his followers. By the end of his weeks long indulgence in the fascinating new pieces of knowledge, he was down to a single perfect core left, the other seven already safely locked in the vault, or sitting on his temporary 'place of honor', or having actually made it to the cherished shelves behind him.
Once he was done being lost in the new knowledge, he found himself basking in the wonder of new knowledge and quickly came to the realization that almost all of these latest cores, and certainly all of the useful knowledge, had come from the same source. That brought Mimir forward in his seat and he quickly picked up one of the cores once again, studying its source.
Hmm… Kukurnal? Hmmm… don’t know him, but maybe? He put forth a request for his information, passing it on to a servant he called in specifically for that purpose before dismissing her and returning to his thoughts. Aelthron Cradle? Aelthron Cradle? Never heard of it… but… why does it seem so familiar? Aelthron? But… He turned to his ultimate artifact which housed a perfect core holding his index of knowledge, one he rarely used simply because of the inordinate cost in time or money to repair perfect cores or wait for their recharge, and quickly dove into it. Power wafted off the index in massive waves, ebbing out into the greater cycle with impunity. His mind rapidly flashed through the core for the name Aelthron. He grew concerned as the search began lasting longer than several breaths, and when the time approached a bell, his worry had truly spiked. How am I not knowing this? Time passed and his index searched back through time, traveling back further and further into history, passing ten greater cycles and still going. Mimir grew concerned. His index continued on, passing onward and onward to twenty greater cycles, and Mimir began to feel a tinge of fear. Mimir’s fear escalated and when it hit thirty greater cycles into the past, Mimir’s panic drove him to end the search. Something so old was of no concern to him and certainly out of his sphere of influence.
However, before he could end the search, his index chimed softly and informed him what he sought had been found. He froze, breathing in some consternation as his mind whirled. He waited, thoughtful. Then he gritted his teeth and accepted the information. It’s not that dangerous… nobody needs to know I know. It’s… The knowledge poured into him, and his breath left him. Aelthron, great family of the Ancient Ones. He clenched his teeth and accepted a little more. Currently relegated to the Aelthron plane… Relegated! An Ancient great family relegated! Mimir immediately ended his great working. The index, a powerful artifact and core memory holder, powered off, the massive waves of power that reached out into the greater cycle slowing, then ending. Mimir huddled back in his chair. Please don’t notice… please don’t notice. It’s… nothing happened. Just… don’t notice!