Chapter Thirty-One: The Autumn Moon Lights My Way

Fourth Tower Year 4772, 4.4.3

The Republic of Mevitra,

The Witch’s Den

They sat around the table in the center of Rynan’s cabin, staring at each other, but no one was eager to start the conversation. Finally, Kira jumped up from the floor and stood upright in the middle of the table.

“Oh! Y’all are so irritating. What’s the story? Rynan! Why did you come back unannounced? Who’s the geezer? I want to know everything.”

Marc had to envy the ease with which Kira could speak casually in Tashtalik. While Marc’s proficiency was now to the point that he could speak fluently without using his translation skill, his words always came out simple and slow, like a child speaking. His interface, the source of the translation power he had relied on for years, could of course use the information it had gathered flawlessly.

“Kira! Have you lost weight?” Rynan replied with a smirk. Kira and Rynan had been in regular communication using the catalyst, but this was the first time that Rynan had met the homunculus that Kira had fashioned before they had left Threshis.

Kira’s avatar was fashioned using the materials reformed from Marc’s belongings from his previous world. The key had been the ID Card from his job at the call center. It wasn’t his actual card however, Marc had surmised. That, he had been returned to the company when had been fired. This replacement card had appeared in his belongings mysteriously.

After gaining insight from Isabella’s Sanctuary, they discovered that the ID card was a camouflage for a true catalyst. A mysterious object connected somehow to the abilities and existence of the Travelers, people from other worlds.

Using the catalyst, Kira was able to build a relay into this homunculus, giving it the shape of a Kobold, a beast known for its intelligence and troublesome nature. Marc had been impressed. It had soft red fur and sharp claws as dextrous as fingers, and could run, jump, and walk upright, just as the actual beast could.

It had also inherited the INEXTIRPABLE trait. Similar to Marc’s own body, the form could be damaged, reshaped, or even rendered into pieces, but its matter could not be destroyed. Injection of Mana would allow any damage to be restored.

The catalyst, as a relay, allowed Marc to channel Mana directly into the small automaton, but its control was too hard for Marc to master. He had tried with some of the smaller prototypes that Kira had developed, but it was troublesome and disorienting. Kira on the other hand, relished the opportunity to directly interact with the world, without Marc as the conduit.

She was already working on a design for a human-sized avatar, but they lacked the appropriate materials for that by far. This was fine with Marc, however, as the pet-sized Kira had already caused more than enough trouble for him in the months since he had returned to Clearwater.

“How dare you!” The small beast shouted at Rynan, baring its teeth and claws as if ready to pounce.

Rynan smiled with a predatory glint in her eyes.

Immediately, Kira shrunk down in response to the chilling look. After all, as amazing as the avatar was, it lacked any significant strength and could only channel the most basic of magic without exhausting its meager internal Mana supply. Rynan on the other hand was a Legend class mage and at a level high enough that she could decimate a hundred kobolds with her bare hands.

“She does have a point. You said that we were going to talk, but so far, we have just been sitting here, sipping tea,” Marc said calmly, grabbing the chastened Kira and putting her in his lap, gently petting her forehead.

“And we will, but first,” Rynan looked around the room. “What have you done to my house?”

Oops.

Marc shuddered as he remembered he had not mentioned the changes he had made to the house in Rynan’s absence.

It had started when his ability to increase the realism of his pocket dimension had leveled up. After he found it more comfortable to spend longer periods of time in the extra-dimensional environment, he started to tweak the virtual cabin environment in small ways, like increasing the size of his room and adding a larger and softer bed.

After he had returned from Threshis, Marc had decided to implement those changes and a few more, using the skills he had gained, as well as the knowledge of crafting and smithing he had developed.

The cellar was no longer simply hard-packed soil, but was now reinforced and covered with a formulation of concrete that he had learned in Threshis. The improvements had only taken a few days with his level of magic and now they wouldn’t need to worry about pests getting into the food stores so easily. He had also built a small extension to the cabin, enlarging the storage closet that was his room, and giving him enough space to put in a larger bed with a thin, but soft, down mattress he had commissioned from a seamstress in Clearwater.

To be fair, Marc knew that Rynan would not approve of the changes, but in the back of his mind, he actually thought he might be away when she returned. He never expected her to be back so soon.

“Umm oh yeah. About that…” he stalled, lacking any semblance of a good excuse.

Rynan glared at him for several awkward seconds, then eased off her attack and smiled. Marc relaxed. He might survive the day after all.

As much as she disapproved of the use of magic for frivolous purposes, such as personal comfort, she was also not one to hold anger, even when it was warranted.

“Well, I suppose it is for the best. Poor Lehdze here is still in poor shape from our flight from Sobric. A soft bed should help with his recovery. You don’t mind lending it to him, do you, Marc?” She raised her eyebrow with a chilling expression.

“Uhhh. No. I mean sure. Uhhh. Yeah. It’s fine. He can stay here…”

Marc realized he had just been evicted. There was no way he could crash with Enpii now that he had the little one. There was always the Guild dorms. Marc grimaced at the thought of returning back there.

In fact, Marc hardly needed a house anymore. He could stay inside his pocket dimension whenever he wanted. He could even recreate one of the nicer inns he had stayed in during his journey, or that budget hotel he had stayed in during that trip to Albuquerque. He could even fashion something better from scratch. Now that he had solved the strange uncomfortable feeling that he used to get in dimensional spaces, Marc could even sleep there when he needed to.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Still, it was strange to wake up in a fake, imaginary room. He also didn’t know how he could explain where he was staying to his friends and family. Keri would have a fit and demand he move in with them.

He would figure something out later. For now, he was eager to hear his teacher’s story.

“Well, I can see you are dying to hear why we are here now, right?” Rynan said with a grin.

“Things… did not go well in Sobric. In fact, I can’t imagine many scenarios that could have ended worse. I would like to say that we didn’t sneak out of the country in the dead of night, but that is precisely what happened. Poor Lehdze here has lost his rank and position and is now a fugitive from the Tower.”

“Ha! Rank, position, who needs it? That bunch of fanatics and pharisaic bullies! Who needs them? I should have left years ago,” the old man shouted animatedly.

“But you did not, and for that, I will be eternally grateful. Marc, Lehdze has been gathering information for years. Information that he has been sharing with me in secret, at great risk. Secrets that the Tower has been protecting for centuries, as well as information about what they have been doing in recent years.”

Marc stared at the ancient, tired-looking man.

“You mean he was a spy?”

The old man shook his head with a sour look on his face.

“No, not a spy,” Rynan corrected him. “A true and honest scholar. Ledzhe has always loved studying for its own sake. It’s always been his sickness. He cares nothing for what the knowledge represents, or how it is used. He only desires to fill the holes left by time.”

The man sputtered in protest, about to argue when Rynan cut him off.

“You only contacted me when they threatened to cut off your access and destroy your precious books, isn’t that true?”

“Well, what else could I do? They wanted to destroy my life’s work! Hide it because it didn’t fit their precious doctrine. From me! The head librarian! I had to do something. I couldn’t let all that research disappear. It goes against everything the Tower stands for.”

“You mean stood for. Perhaps, thousands of years ago. It hasn’t been that organization for a long time. I warned you many times,” Rynan spoke to the man softly, trying to ease the obvious trauma the man had been through.

“Lehdze, tell Marc what your area of research is. You can trust him. He is your fellow disciple after all.”

The old man scrutinized Marc, but quickly enough he seemed to find him trustworthy, or perhaps he didn’t care too much. He was a strange old character. Marc could still remember how he had been shredding hard on the guitar the night before.

“Yes, well, my research. My area of expertise is the historical records regarding the Travelers. Visitors to this world from other worlds. You must have heard the stories. Monsters of immense power who come to this world to bring disaster and ruin. It’s all nonsense! Lies told to instill fear of the unknown in the people! But they did exist. The Travelers. They have existed as long as the Towers and have had a deep and lasting impact on this world. Oh, I could tell you so many stories. Did you know that they looked as normal as you and I? They could be in the world right now and no one would know. All those stories of flaming eyes and black wyvern wings… nonsense!”

Suddenly Marc was listening intently to each and every word the old man spoke. Encouraged by Marc’s apparent interest, the man continued.

“There were so many holes in the records. Legends, rumors, children’s tales, there are thousands of variations, but it was so hard to get actual verified information. It has been my personal life’s work to gather those stories from around the world. The Tower. The only place that has access to information from before the Great Cataclysm. I have spent decades pouring through the lost texts and recovered records. I spent years, wandering the deserts of Sett searching the ruins for fragments that survived the disaster. I even tried to sneak into Krrt Anatra to see what those damned elves have been hiding there.”

Rynan sighed.

“And if I hadn’t intervened then, you would have been burned alive and your bones sent to the bottom of the ocean,” she chastised him.

“You never knew when to take no for an answer. Even when you were a novice researcher in my classroom.”

Lehdze paused, seeming to catch some important piece of information from his teacher’s words. He looked at her, then at Marc. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought as he continued his explanation.

“I had finally put so much together. It would have been my triumph. I had found enough to put together a record, a nearly unbroken line of Travelers dating back to the First Tower. I had the writings of Rudeeus, the coat of Yoonah, the tablets of the First One, and the diary of Isabella. They were not destroyers. They were in fact just as in name, Travelers. Beings from other places who came to this world.”

Marc could not restrain himself.

“Why! Why did they come here?” He almost shouted the question, surprising the feeble man and shocking him into silence.

Realizing the effect of his outburst, Marc apologized, carefully avoiding looking towards his teacher, expecting a disapproving glare at his impatience.

“Uh, hmmm. That I don’t know,” The puzzled look on the scholar’s face betrayed his ignorance of the answer.

“I mean, of course, I have searched for a common thread there, but I could find none. That alone is a significant fact. While there are so many amazing similarities in their stories, so much it would appear strange for the same things to keep happening over and over throughout time, I could never find any connections between them as individuals. It’s like they were stories, written with the same plot, sprinkled through time, but by different authors. Repeating the same thing over and over and over, with small variations, but never any common thread to tie them together.”

Kira hopped up on the table, grabbing the old man with her paws, kneading his face, and then knocking on his head like a coconut.

“I’ll take this one.” She said staring up at Rynan.

“No, you can not ‘take’ Lehdze Kira. He’s not here for you to dissect,” Rynan scolded Kira. Lehdze’s eyes widened at the word ‘dissect’.

“But I am sure he would be more than happy to share his research with you. Provided you motivate him with sharing what you yourself have learned.”

Now a glint of greed passed over the old man’s face. It was easy to see what motivated the man. well, Marc would happily share what they had discovered if it would give them more clues to the fates of the Travelers. What he had already learned from Isabella’s sanctuary was priceless to him.

Kira walked across the table and stood in front of Rynan. She put out her arms and flexed her paws in a “gimme, gimme” gesture.

Rynan cocked her head to the side.

“What is it you want, little one?”

“C’mon! Hand it over!” Kira demanded.

“What?”

“The books, the artifacts, all the treasures! Gimme! They are in your storage space right?” Kira hopped around like a child needing the bathroom.

“Nope.”

Marc frowned.

“What kind of game-“

“I say that not because I am refusing to cooperate, but because I do not have anything to share,” Rynan explained calmly.

They both looked at Lehdze.

The man shook his head sadly.

“I don’t have them. They are gone. All of it is gone. Destroyed by the Deacons…” The man seemed ready to burst into tears.

“They took my work away. My office, my notes, my books, all of it. Rynan, she came to help me recover them. By the time we found out where they had moved everything… I used every last resource I had, burned every contact and source. Every ‘friend’ I had turned their backs on me. Everyone except my teacher.”

He looked up at Rynan, his eyes wet.

“She smuggled me out of the Tower. We trekked across Sobric, following the trail. We thought that the Deacons were gathering everything to take it all to Ranobe. I never thought they would…”

“It’s all gone. Every last scrap. Even I never expected the Tower would go to such lengths. As Lehdze said, it goes against their very foundation to destroy knowledge. There is something very dark behind what has happened,” Rynan looked down at the frail, broken man with pity.

“But luckily, there is one final copy. One last archive of that research left in the world.”

Marc and Kira looked at the teacher hopefully.

“Where is it?” Marc asked.

“Right in front of you of course,” she said looking straight at the old librarian.

Marc looked back at her, confused.

“I brought you the last copy of the library, but you’ll have to gain the knowledge the old-fashioned way,” she said with an evil grin.

Lehdze looked at Marc with a sad smile.

“I’ll be in your care.”

It was then that Marc realized he had just inherited yet another teacher.