On Lycans – Excerpts from a banned heretical book
...while the imperials want you to believe the Eternals to be the only gods upon the lands. A traveled man who has crossed the northern borders however may see for themselves that the Lycan’s art, not unlike Channeling, involve a godly power, Nature...
...interestingly, the root of the word “Lycan” seems to come from Chosen-tongue, <
Late winter / Ice 783 ADM – Eternal Empire – Modona’s upper district – Merentah mansion
After days of scribbling, reading, and wild theories, Ulysse had finally made up his mind on what kind of spell he would use to solve his scaly issue.
Having it all written on a slip of paper it read;
<
Focus scale purify – Equal – Scaleless
My scales purified – Become – Skin
Components :
<
My blood as ink
<
A few scales obviously
<
Fire for purification
<
More of my blood
<
A piece of leather for skin
Ulysse was mostly sure about his words, and components choice, everything would be easy to acquire and fit nicely together.
Said words mostly fit the purpose of the spell too. He might have generously translated his sentence, but he didn’t know the word for ‘Become’ or any of its synonyms. He figured <
His plan was to merge all of it into a single item. A leather parchment with the words written in blood and scale ink, lit on fire at the same time as he would read them.
As such, Ulysse had two books open on the lectern in from of him; ‘Inhuman Hides & Leathers’, and ‘The alchemy of books’. The former was a pretty creepy book that compared the skin of different species to that of humans. Ulysse didn’t want to use the skin of something like an elf or a dwarf for his parchment, they might technically be monsters, but he still felt like they were a bit too human. Thankfully the book also said pigs weren't that bad of an analog.
The second book was full of recipes for making ink, paper, glue and other book related things. Ink didn’t seem all that hard to make, but he would need a whole suite of alchemical tools to boil it, and grind the scales he wanted to incorporate.
He quickly wrote a letter for the servants in charge of buying things, asking them to get him a few parchments of pigskin, some special tree sap, and a vial of pure alcohol for the ink.
Just thinking about that last item left him crinkle his nose in distaste, remembering the foul odor he sometimes smelled from the grown-ups.
After delivering the letter to the servants, Ulysse was left with only two things to do before he could actually cast his spell.
Finding a place to setup the ritual, and alchemical tools to make the blood ink.
He had a good idea on how to fulfill both at the same time. The Merxau’s residence, which was mostly empty during most of the year, had a laboratory. His dad, Mogens, had shown him the place once or twice when he was younger.
***
Some time later – Merxau residence
Ulysse yelled, “Is anyone here!?”
Silence answered him.
While it was a good thing that the place was empty, it still made the place much creepier than last time he had been there. Since the place had its blinds closed for winter his magic lamp was the only source of light.
A small, misty cloud followed his every breath. Ulysse could feel that no fires had been lit inside for quite some time, the place was freezing cold, maybe worse than outside.
After waiting a bit to make sure there wasn’t anyone else there, he made his way through the corridors. Ulysse didn’t remember exactly where the laboratory was situated, just that it had black metal door. He wandered through the place before eventually finding it, funnily enough it was situated right next to the kitchen.
He put his hand on the handle, trying to open the door. The metal was cold, and while the handle turned, the door wouldn’t budge – locked.
Ulysse tried using the key he had been given for the library, sometimes locks had the same key. No luck this time however.
How could I forget, of course the big metal door has a lock. Should I steal dad’s key?
He toyed with the idea, on one hand it would likely be the easiest solution, Mogens would never expect Ulysse to steal from him, he had never stolen anything after all. On the other hand, Ulysse had never stolen anything, ever. That was more Alice’s thing. Maybe he could as her, but that would force him to tell her about his reason, notably the mutation.
He really didn’t want that.
Furthermore, Mogens would eventually realize his key had been stolen and come to the lab.
And while Ulysse morals didn’t find any problems with doing heretical magic, or breaking into unused laboratories, stealing just wasn’t his thing.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Or maybe he was just scared by the idea of stealing. As long as he didn’t involve anyone, no-one could punish him for casting his spell.
Ulysse brought his lamp closer to the lock, it was a big bulky thing, made of the same black metal as the door, in fact the two appeared to be almost merged together. The keyhole looked rather large, and he could barely see the mechanism behind, a series of metal bits bent in weird shapes, and some sort of part that could turn, he wasn’t quite sure.
There must be a book about lockpicking somewhere in the library.
Either that, or making a copy of his father’s key, but that brought most of the same issues as stealing it.
But now it was time for training with Grace, he would come back tomorrow, with lockpicking stuff.
***
The next day – The laboratory’s door
Unbeknown to his family, Ulysse had once again sneaked into the Merxau residence. This time, a small satchel hung from his shoulder, filled with parchment, books, a pouch of scales, and bits of metal.
Ulysse felt every bit of a thief as he scuttled through the corridors, taking a few detours to verify he was alone, he eventually reached the black laboratory door.
Ulysse put his satchel on the ground, the thing was heavy, and pulled out one of the books ‘Through the Keyhole : The way of opening’.
Ulysse blushed a little when reading the title, while searching for the book he had picked one bearing a similar title, and though both books talked about how having dexterous fingers was important, it had certainly not been about actual keyholes.
This one was, thankfully.
He opened it in front of the lock, approaching his light to see clearly. The book contained drawings of many types of locks so he skimmed it, comparing each picture with the door.
This one.
On page 63 there was a depiction of a similar lock, large entry, weird key shape, supposedly very sturdy. To be fair it looked like every other lock to Ulysse. What had really gotten his attention was the note in red ink scribbled on the margin.
It hadn’t been there last time he’d looked at the book.
<
You are strongly discouraged to continue on this path.
You were given the book of Chosen-tongue to learn its words, not speak its sentences.
You may wait one more year and two months to learn <
You may also act as you wish.
Shall you fail, you may never wield the words again.
Shall you succeed, we will meet again before Mercy ends.
That was surprising, the Librarian wasn’t the kind of man to send warnings. He always corrected Ulysse’s mistakes after they were made, but he didn’t stop him from making them in the first place.
Ulysse read through the note a few times. It all but confirmed he would be learning this <
Other than that, he knew the Librarian liked to use precise words, and there were a bunch of ‘may’ in there. He had two options, wait and learn the ‘formal way’, or go through with his spell.
If he succeeded, he would get to learn magic a full year earlier. A year was a huge time for him, almost a full eleventh of his life.
If he failed, he ‘may never wield the words again’, ‘may’ being the key word here, it might be a possibility if he screwed up really bad, but it also meant that if it was a slight failure, it wouldn’t impact him at all.
Maybe.
Completely ignoring the warning, Ulysse put the book down, it was time to pick his lock.
He skimmed through the instructions. Apparently locks such as this one couldn’t be picked with skeleton keys, whatever those were. It required three tools; a wire, a tension rod, and a small hammer.
He pulled out a metal wire, and a flat-ish iron nail. He didn’t have a hammer, so his fist would have to do. Really, he had just picked randoms bits of metal inside the stable.
First step was, ‘With nimble fingers, take ye a slender wire, and gently twist it within the lock's heart, shaping it so to match the cunning turns of the ward therein.’
Ulysse did just that, though his fingers weren't quite nimble, nor his wire slender. After a few tries, feeling out the ‘cunning turns’, his wire finally slid inside
Next the book read, ‘Place ye the tension rod with care upon the lock's gate, and with the softest hand, apply gentle pressure, coaxing the wards to reveal their hidden dance.’
The nail’s sharpened tip went inside the lock, Ulysse pushed it ‘with the softest hand’ and halfway through it got stuck. He still needed to get it further in so he wiggled his wire and nail, it went further in and the lock turned a few degrees, then got stuck again.
At this point, Ulysse didn’t need to read the last instruction to know what to do. He put his palm above the nail’s head, on a not too fleshy part. Pulled his palm an inch back, then slammed it down while his other hand tried to turn the wire.
The lock turned in a sinister creak of metal, it clicked and disengaged.
Ulysse would have celebrated if his palm didn’t hurt, there was a small red divot where he had hit the nail. Not the best idea he had ever gotten.
Still, the door was now unlocked. There was just a slight problem. Ulysse tried pulling the nail out, however it was firmly lodged inside. There would be no hiding his trespassing if anyone stumbled upon the door.
Let's see what we have inside.
The inside of the laboratory was a stark contrast to the rest of the residence. The place was incredibly clean, not an ounce of dust to be found. Rows of vials and strangely shaped beakers lined the tiled walls in orderly fashion. Large workbenches were furnished with large sinks and tools of all sorts.
Ulysse strolled inside, closing, but not locking, the door behind himself. His bag was thrown on one of the tables and he started wandering through the lab, familiarizing himself with the place, trying out a few of the strange contraptions. He almost burned his face off by pulling a fancy lever on one of the burners. He promptly switched it off.
His tour ended after he laboriously got a crate a glassware down to the ground. The shelves were not made with children in mind, but the small ladder he found sitting against a wall was.
Bringing up his collection of things to the table, he pulled out ‘The alchemy of books’ from his bag. He got started on his ink-making, not wanting to stay long enough for someone to notice.
Bringing one of the very sharp small knives close to his hand, Ulysse wondered where to cut for it not to actually hurt. His hand already felt a bit painful, and even with a potion on hand he was a bit scared to actually stab himself.
How much blood do I even need for the ink?
An unimpressed voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “Look who isn’t supposed to be there.”
Ulysse turned around, brandishing his scalpel towards the intruder. Purple eyes, bangs, and a small golden pendant. Victoria was grinning at him.
She quickly took a step back at the sight of his knife, her eyes narrowing she said, “Put that down Ul’, I’m not kidding.”
As she said that, her hand slid to her hip, griping at a dagger. Ulysse instantly dropped the scalpel, not wanting to test how far her paranoia went.
“I can explain everything.” He said, wincing and showing his empty hands.
“No, you don’t, you’re dead cousin. Next time you do something illegal, take all precautions. Setup alarms in hallways, delay your pursuers, don’t be seen each time you come here, don’t pick a lock with an enchanted alarm.” She stated in a cold voice.
Ulysse was expecting to get yelled at but, this didn’t look like it at all.
He asked hesitantly, “You are not mad?”
“I certainly am, the lock is dead. The repair cost will come out of your allowance.”
Victoria removed her hand from her dagger, walking past him. Ulysse watched her as she started handling a few tools on another table, seemingly content to ignore him.
“Wait, so you won't tell mom? What about the alarm? Can I stay here?”
“I’m not your mom, the alarm wont trigger for Merentahs, I’m still not your mom. I didn’t come here for you Ul’, I just saw you lurk around because you are terrible at stealth.” She answered him without looking back.
“Sooo, I can just do my thing?”
She nodded back.
Ulysse stared at her for a bit, still shocked at not being punished for breaking in. Victoria had always been strange, even for family standards. She was nice at least. His mom would have killed him if she had seen him in there.
He tried to get back to ink making, watching the scalpel, and his hand, back to the scalpel, then his hand. While he wouldn’t admit it, he couldn’t sum up the courage to stab himself.
He turned around towards Victoria, “Say, Vic’, you wouldn’t mind helping me out?”
“Depends on what you are doing.” She answered him, her tone seemed quite disinterested.
He hesitated for a moment, technically, the only thing he had been ordered not to talk about was the book, and she already knew anyways, stupid rule.
For now, Vic’ had always been either supportive, or uncaring of his shenanigans. He supposed he could actually ask her. Or he could chicken out and just ask her to help him on the ink.
He blurted it out, “I’m making a ritual.”
“Not inter...” She paused her alchemy, then turned back, “Did you say ritual? Hasn't it been less than a year since you got the book?”
“Yes?”