Book 4 Epilogue - Beyond the Sea
To the north of Noga City, across the hills that rolled down to the port city Seline Harbour lay the foaming grey waves of the Altic Sea. This sea, bleak and stormy, stretched out to the horizon, only a few barren islands breaking up the lonely sea.
Further north, past the Noga patrol vessels and his prison-like military port Locus Terminus, a rift in spacetime two kilometres wide broke across the sea from east to west, the scars of an ancient battlefield between gods. Endless waterfalls poured into an airless star-filled void, separating the lands on either side of the sea.
Northward still, past the serpent-filled waters that bordered the Banbajan province, were the majestic cliffs and towering walls of TenYuan, the capital of NianXing. And past the rugged mountains and flat-topped plateaus, past the massive Ahrak Wall that formed the northern border of NianXing.
Beyond the Wall of Laws, a dusty red landscape stretched as far as the horizon. On these plains the bare rocks baked under the merciless sun. Deep chasms stretched across the plains, giving the land an appearance of a mosaic of tiles, by which it received its name, the Cracked Lands.
Beyond the Cracked Lands, the soil turned to coarse, white salt that heaped in rolling dunes for hundreds of kilometres. This dead land, devoid of life or spirit, formed the divide between the southern and northern continent.
Here, thousands of kilometres away from Noga City, past a lands vast and deadly, a white fortress sat on a crystal cliff surrounded by the dunes.
The brilliant blue sky above was unmarred by even a hint of a cloud. All was still, a timeless painting of white and blue with not even a breeze to interrupt its solitude.
Then, in the distance, a speck came into sight over the horizon. Small, white, flying over the endless landscape from the north. It flew in a straight, uninterrupted line over the dunes toward the fortress.
The sun set and rose again, and the dove continued to fly without rest. For three days its tiny body was visible, tirelessly making its way to the keep.
When it arrived it flew straight through a narrow embrasure in the central tower, entering into the fortress. It folded its wings and dove straight down through the hollow tower, descending into the well of darkness that penetrated deep within the earth.
As it fell a pinprick of light became visible, growing larger and larger until the bird emerged into a small chamber in the bottom of the fortress. Its wings rattled as it opened them, flapping hard to stabilize itself, then zipped down toward the source of the light - a lantern set atop a horizontal tablet of black stone.
A singular figure stood at the tablet, his hands resting on the textured surface. The tablet was two metres wide, five metres long, half a metre thick. The warm lantern light played off the engravings on the stone, which had the colour and sheen of black oil.
The man was old, with grey whiskers and bushy grey eyebrows. Deep bags hung under his pale blue eyes, which sat behind a pair of thin brass spectacles. His white hair was curled and unruly. He wore old, worn clothing with pockets that were full of various small tools and trinkets.
His hands ran over the tablet, feeling the engravings as much as he read them, mumbling softly under his breath as he worked. He didn’t look up as the dove arrived, but when it landed on the tablet and hopped up to him he muttered softly to it.
“What now?”
The dove clicked and whirred in response. It folded its mechanical wings over its back, hiding the naked frame of its torso. Its cocked its head, looking up at the man with two eyes made of black crystals.
The man glanced at its legs, where a small scroll had been tied to the tin rod of its leg.
“A message? From who?”
The dove whirred.
Its reply caused the man to hesitate as he finally looked over at the mechanical dove, a look of skeptical interest in his eyes.
“Come now, let me see.” He said.
The dove’s leg rotated up then telescoped out across the table. Its talons bent backward and sliced across the knot holding the scroll like the blades of a tiny pair of scissors.
The scroll unfurled onto the table, made of weathered, stained parchment. It didn’t fall flat against the stone, but immediately started folding in on itself, crinkling into the shape of a tiny origami person no taller than a fingernail.
“Paper Prince.” The man frowned, “So you have returned.”
The tiny person made a few gestures in response.
“Yes, yes.” The old man sighed, reaching into his pocket, “You are lucky I still have some parchment on me. I typically don’t carry such materials.”
He pulled out a few crumped sheafs of paper and tossed them onto the table. The little person bowed politely and stepped up to the paper. The paper immediately crumpled and folded into the shape of another little person, but this time it was as tall as a hand.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
A writing pad folded out between its two paper hands, and words materializing on the parchment.
Giuseppe, thank you for granting me an audience.
“An audience with me, it is not something special.” The old man frowned, “It surprises me to see you, Paper Prince. I thought you perished.”
The ink on the parchment swirled into new shapes.
I nearly did, but for the help of friends.
“I would ask you how you found me, but I suppose it is not necessary.” Giuseppe replied, “Tell me, then, for what purpose do you seek me?”
The same purpose for which I supposedly perished.
Giuseppe sighed, muttering softly under his breath. He turned away from the paper boy, “This thing you seek, this… obsession. It is evil.”
The origami prince shook his head. Words materialized on his writing pad but the man was looking away. The paper boy ran across the table to hold up its writing pad for the old man to read.
I am close, Giuseppe. I know where I err’d.
“You were close last time too, Paper Prince. But see what it did for you.” Giuseppe frowned, “I cannot help you. The Hidden Knowledge is not to be trifled with.”
The old man sighed, “Your father— May His genius be at peace in the cosmos— supported you on your quest, and now he has perished—“
A passionate crinkling interrupted his speech.
I could have saved him! If I had a bit more time!
“So you’ve said.” Giuseppe muttered, “But He didn’t fall to Corruption. He fell to the machinations of his enemies.”
The old man looked down at the small origami figure over top of his spectacles, “I respect your father, even to this day, Argus. You know it is true when I say the God of Craftsmen will always be my Lord, even though his spirit has returned to the aether.”
“His dream is why I work so hard, little prince.”
Giuseppe turned his gaze down to the tablet, running his fingers over a small section of the stone, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “But I am not Okuron. I have performed so many experiments, but the answers yet elude me.”
“This tower, it was not here three months ago. It appeared suddenly out of the dunes.” Giuseppe said, “I have not seen anything like it, despite my seekers out across the world.”
I have.
“Why am I not surprised.” Giuseppe’s expression finally lightened in a small grin. “Then, are you here to help me, little prince?”
I shall help, but in trade for something I need.
“You begin, then.” Giuseppe replied.
These towers are more common in the south, I know of four such locations.
The words shifted into another phrase.
I am seeking information about the River of Souls.
“The river at the bottom of the aetheric plane. One of the three sacred realms of antiquity, alongside the Cosmic Realm and the Land of Dreams. Giuseppe raised an eyebrow, “Though it is uncertain if it exists, or if it is simply myth.”
It exists.
Giuseppe laughed, which caused the paper origami figure to crumple in annoyance.
I know someone who has been there.
“Is that so?” Giuseppe stopped laughing, furrowing his brows skeptically, “One of the Council?”
The paper boy shook his head.
“You’re right, I would have heard of it if it were so…” Giuseppe stroked his moustache thoughtfully, “Then, it must be one of the gods from the south continent?”
I need your help to analyze this symbol. Argus replied, not answering his question.
The ink on the writing pad whirled into a complex illustration composed of numerous constellations and glyphs. As the ink formed the shapes, it seemed to bulge out of the paper and even detach at points, forming the hints of a more complex three dimensional shape.
Giuseppe initially looked disinterested, but his eyes narrowed as he examined the runes, pupils flickering across the page as he analyzed the interconnections weaving through the glyphs.
“Magnificent…” Giuseppe muttered, a look of surprise appearing on his face as he realized he had spoken without thinking, “It is incomplete, but it is magnificent. I have studied the runes over the past two eras and it is unlike anything I have seen. Where did you find this?”
It is on a door on the shores of the River of Souls.
“A door? How intriguing…” Giuseppe frowned, “I will trust that you are speaking truth, no matter how unbelievable these words are…”
“Very well, recreate it as best you can, when I find time I will look at it.” Giuseppe nodded, “Not this century, come back in a hundred years or two.”
This is urgent, Giuseppe.
“As is my work.” Giuseppe shrugged, “I will consider it if you can get me access to those other four towers— and someone who can interpret the runes for me.”
Both are possible.
“Very well, I will await your good news.”
Analysis of the broad nature of the door glyphs first, in exchange for location of the towers. Pending success we can discuss further cooperation.
“Bargaining with me, Paper Prince?” Giuseppe chuckled, “How unlike you.”
I’ve learned a few things since I’ve awoken.
Giuseppe shook his head, about to refuse Argus’ request, but his eyes kept being drawn to the glyphs on the pad. Curiousity twinkled in his eyes as he frowned, then nodded slightly.
“Very well. I will take a look.”
Thank you. And congratulations.
“For what, Mister Prince?”
For your recent ascendance to godhood. I have heard that you’ve been quite busy lately.
“It was necessary for my experiments, that is all. Godhood is more convenient for these simple exchanges of power for information. It is much like how your father worked, after all.” Giuseppe said dismissively, “Otherwise, I am simply who I’ve always been.”
“That shall be all, little Prince.” Giuseppe said, “I shall examine this rune of yours. Await my response.”
Without waiting for a reply, Giuseppe made a small gesture with his fingers. The dove, which had been pecking idly at the table nearby, suddenly stiffened. A spear-like tongue shot out of its beak into the head of the origami figure, slicing the original tiny parchment that was embedded inside.
The figure went limp, fluttering to the table lifelessly.
~
In a candle lit study, Argus’ eyes opened as he came out of a trance. He sighed, shaking his head as he straightened out some wrinkles on his linen vest. This ten year old boy had aged quickly since his revival as the paper prince, now appearing to be in his late teens. He wasn’t particularly tall, with a lean build and a youthful face that still had some baby fat on it. His curly, golden locks hung over his eyes, giving him the appearance of a daydreaming scholar.
“Did he agree?” Pix asked from the couch nearby. The impish demoness was lying upside down with her furred goat legs up on the back of the sofa and her head hanging off the edge.
Argus frowned, pressing the opposite tips of his fingers on each hand together in thought, leaning against the wooden desk in front of him.
“Yes. But he is suspicious of me.” Argus said, “He didn’t like when I changed the subject to his godhood.”
“I told you~” Pix said in a singsong voice, “That old geezer plays innocent, but he is not right in the head.”
“No, I think he is perfectly cognizant.” Argus said, “He is only interested in one thing, his experiments.”
“He is spreading a delightful amount of chaos lately with these ‘experiments’.” Pix grinned, “Perhaps I should meet him.”
“Perhaps. We will need to be careful, we don’t know who is backing him. Or what he is truly after.” Argus nodded, “Regardless, he is someone to keep an eye on.”
“Giuseppe, the Clockwork God.”