Chapter 18
The sickness of the spirit is what permeates all! Fits of violence, idolatry of the spirits and those who worship immorality is what causes our ills, punishment for allowing THEM to inhabit our sacred ground! Seek them! Destroy them! Those false believers in the Radiant King’s name, those who proclaim to study his words while undermining the authority of those who are pure!
* Words of the third Supreme Priest Pseudocerdus before the Fifth Scream. Death toll estimated to be ninety percent of all ancient scholars within Omnic dominion, or around 900,000 souls.
“What do you mean, this place is doomed?! We’ve been here for like half a day! What the hell is happening?” shouted Levi as she followed Victor, with the latter jumping from rooftop to rooftop while running.
“Remember that cult thingy you told me about when you brought me here?”, said Victor. He was currently running the fastest Levi had ever seen, and that was saying something. Even she could barely see him, and she was one of the most perceptive beings alive. Currently he looked like some shadowy figure, with the dark clothing and flapping sleeves making him look like some spirit of the night.
“Yes. Are you saying they are behind it?”
“I don’t know, it’s possible. The point is, someone here had the bright idea to summon in something bigger than or equal to a Class six abomination, or at least part of one. If we don’t stop it in time, we’re screwed. At best, if law enforcement stops it before they finish the second stage, only this island will be consumed.”
“They won’t. These guys take months to mobilize or do anything. That’s why there’s so much violence between those automatons in the alleyways and slums.”, explained Levi.
“Also, you said something about a class six whatsit?”, replied Levi in between pants for breath as her body desperately tried to inhale enough air to fuel this mad dash. She knew victor always bragged about being able to outrun the police whenever he stole something, but she always assumed he said that in jest.
“Basically means that a roided out demon with anger management issues is coming after us. A class seven would be what eats those things. That formula back there was a modified version of the summoning schematics for matter frequency interference, presumably to bring something here. I hope those cult guys aren’t trying to catch anything too big, or we’re all screwed.”
As it turned out, they were trying to catch something big. “Hey vern, you know what to do? I think we’re trying to get that quiet thing, right?” said one hooded figure
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“No you moron. We’re trying to get the Lord of Silence. You know, the whole reason we made a painting of it’s sworn enemy on sacred ground?” snapped the other shrouded cultist.
“Oh. What do we do to get it over here, then?”, queried the hooded figure while scratching the back of his head.
“We summoned Tim over here, he should know how to do it. RIght, tim?”
“Uh…. yes. We just need to make it’s Library start converting the town into part of it’s Domain, and we should start having it’s servants making everyone quiet.”
“Epic. Let’s start”
The cultists (and one mildly bored demon) then began the process of making the summoning circle. Interestingly, it was highly similar to the process the Elves used to commune with their elementals, the way the lines of drawn goat blood intersected remniscient of the geometric fractal shapes made by Bundo’s people.
Before they could do anything, the circle started glowing it turned into a blood-red inscripted circle, which then melted into a rift. Beneath that rift lay a massive sprawling library, with fiant ghosts covered in scraps of paper and splatters of ink hovering about. Just as the demon was going to remark on their success, they all were aware of a presence.
To say that they heard a voice in their heads would be inaccurate, as hearing implied sound or at least some auditory undertone to it. This was not that. It was not silence either, since silence implied a lack of sound. This was something far worse, something that was the opposite of sound that made their thoughts muted by association with this anti-voice.
[Why has my silence been disturbed? Explain now or have thy life muted.]
Vern attempted to say something, but just as a peep exited his mouth, it shut. Even more horrifyingly, his skin seemed to crawl over his lips, sealing them shut. He felt his tongue swell up, then go numb as if someone has sprinkled poppy extract inside his mouth.
[This is your last warning. I require quiet. This is a library, not a barnyard. Do not disturb my place.]
Quickly, Timael took a rag out of his pocket and pushed it to each of his compatriot’s faces, causing them to collapse. He then scribbled something into the air with some odd orange sparks, the glyphs reading this eloquently-made phrase:
Apologies, Great Archiver. I have knocked them out to prevent any more blundering. We simply have offered you a gateway into the domain of the planet known as Omnus Prime, giving you a city to collect and learn from.
Having successfully communicated in a way that made not a single decibel, the lesser fiend then gracefully hopped out of the endless maze of bookshelves and arched ceilings, back into the material world. Interestingly (or alarmingly), the entryway into the Domain of the Librarian had turned from a simple circle into a much larger sphere, and one that was pulsing worryingly at that. As Timael dragged his summoners into a cart and pulled it away, he looked balefully at the yawning gate that was visibly expanding as he watched, with pale finger-like tendrils of it grasping out and wriggling to probe for the material world. As he did, he heard that dreaded antithesis of sound, a mockery of the voice given to all beings freely.
[Fine then, you may leave. I accept this gift and all the knowledge it entails, and will repay you a boon in kind. I warn you of this, however: if I hear anything from whatever is in this city of yours, I will do as I please to maintain the tranquility necessary for my atheneum, oh child of Gehenna. ]
For the first time in a long time, Timael smiled in joy, his crimson lips splitting open to reveal dagger-like teeth as his tail scrawled a final message in infernal glyphs.
I wouldn’t have it any other way, Librarian.