Once more, the Surveyor appeared at Ieros’s and End’s humble farm, accompanying a happy Silren. In sharp contrast to her bubbly, excited self, the Librarian was calm and still, like a pool deep within a cave, undisturbed by wind or animal. However, this calm pool was being disturbed at that very moment, small, quiet ripples spreading over its surface. But overall, the ripples were not of great disturbance, they were less than negligible. But, suddenly, there came a piece of stalagmite which, by time, fell from the cave ceiling and plunged into the cave, sending small waves and water droplets throughout the pool. This piece of stalagmite was End, who had rushed out upon seeing him and gave him a hug.
Surprised by this and unsure of how to respond, the Librarian just stood still, finally saying, “Why are you hugging me?”
End let go, seemingly disappointed that he hadn’t returned the hug.
“Can’t I hug my brother?”
The Librarian spoke, “Why are you excited to see me? Last time we spoke I said that should we meet again, it is likely to kill you. Have you forgotten?”
End shrugged, “If you did come here to kill me, you probably would’ve done so without slowly walking up here.”
“Hmm, sometimes I forget that you are as capable of analyzing a situation as I.” the Librarian commented.
End smiled, “Yes, I—hey wait a minute. You just insulted me.”
The Librarian congratulated her sincerely with a monotone voice, “How observant.”
“Stop with the sarcasm, wait, do you even possess sarcasm?” End asked.
The Librarian shook his head.
“No, I do not. I was sincerely congratulating you.”
End wasn’t willing to give this up.
“Didn’t sound like it.”
The Librarian then shrugged, “That appears to have nothing to do with me but rather your perception of what I said. Rest assured that I did indeed mean what I said.”
End studied him suspiciously for a few more moments before sighing, “Well I’ll just take your word for it.”
The Librarian nodded, “That’s right, you should, I do not need to lie after all.”
End groaned, “Are you sure you aren’t being sarcastic?”
He replied, “No, I am not.”
End decided to give up talking with him while she still had some dignity, muttering, “It seems you haven’t improved your social skills at all.”
The Librarian did not answer this time, from its vast stores of memories about mortal conversations, it deduced that her observation was not one meant to continue or start a conversation.
They began to walk home and Silren, who had been giggling about the whole thing, said, “Uncle, you’re really funny.”
Turning to look at her, he asked with genuine curiosity, “I am?”
“Yup!” she affirmed with a nod.
He turned his attention forward.
“Hmm.”
As they walked, the Librarian was mostly silent as End complained about him out loud, with Silren coming to his defense.
“...I mean seriously, how can I be related to such a boring person. He has no emotions, no personality, he’s just boring!”
She looked at the Librarian, “Boooooriiiiing.”
Silren said, “Nuh-uh, he’s plenty interesting. He speaks about such fascinating things and shows me what wonders the world has to offer.”
End countered, “He talks about interesting things, that doesn’t make him interesting.”
Silren tried to counter but upon thinking about it, she fell silent.
At this, End chuckled. “Still far too early for you to spar in a battle of wits with me dear.”
The Librarian remained silent as the two continued their spar of wits, keeping his eye out for the younger daughter. But it was far more than to just analyze her personality and the composition of her body, no, he was also here to see just what powers they possessed, a fusion of Ieros’s magical might and End’s Absolute Destruction truly, such a thing would be most fascinating to observe. It intended to do the same with Silren, but it decided to gain the permission of both Ieros and End.
It already had the perfect excuse to begin its experiment, with excuses about how the children needed to learn about their powers so that when they eventually stepped out into the world, they would not be helpless. After all, a parent wants for their children to be safe and the only way to be safe in such a world was strength, strength that these children possessed.
But first, a dinner to lower the guard of the parents, get the pleasantries out of the way before it asked about the serious stuff. This was to ensure the mental safety of the children for if it were to forcefully take them should the parents be adamant in refusing to let him experiment, it would damage their mental psyche and impair the experiment. And since these two were the only ones of their kind, it did not want to damage either one of them, they were far too precious to lose.
End ushered the Librarian in, saying, “You just wait inside Erus, I’ll cook up some delicious food for you in a second. Silren, help your father finish the chores for the day.”
“Mom! How long do you want me to babysit Ivaran?”
A young woman stood there, holding a young boy whose excited energy seemed to grow the longer he was held. Finally, she just couldn’t hold onto him anymore and he bolted out from her hands, running out into the forest. She sighed and went to go after him, although stopping when she saw the Librarian. The Librarian gave a curious look to the boy that ran off before returning his attention to the young woman, seeing that the seal was as strong as ever and that the young woman looked remarkably like Ieros. Well, it was only the facial features but as the being which had designed Ieros to look that way, it could see almost no differences between the two’s facial structures. Of course, hers was slightly more feminine but other than that, it was almost an exact match.
Noticing the stare that Erus was giving her daughter, End stepped in front of her protectively.
“I don’t like that look you’re giving my daughter Erus.”
Erus turned his attention on her and bowed his head in apology.
“My apologies, it’s just that she is uncannily similar to Ieros when he was young.”
She smiled, “Oh yeah, she does take after her father. Handsome, isn’t she?”
Erus shrugged, “Your opinion is biased but I do agree that in mortal terms, she is indeed attractive.”
Playfully, End said, “I won’t be giving her to you okay, she’s my precious daughter.”
Erus replied, “If you meant as in marriage or the like worry not, I do not have such desires.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
End sighed, “That was a joke Erus, you weren’t supposed to take it seriously.”
Taking a moment to think, Erus apologized, “Oh, then I’m sorry then.”
She sighed some more, giving up on trying to teach Erus some social mannerisms.
Upon realizing that she hadn’t introduced her daughter and Erus, she hurriedly did so, saying, “That man is my brother, your Uncle Erus.”
Turning to Erus, she said, “And this is Imra, my youngest daughter. She is nineteen years old-”
“I’m almost twenty mom,” Imra interjected, bringing a smile to End’s face.
She patted Imra on the head and said, “I know dear.”
Escaping her mother’s patting, Imra said indignantly, “I’m not a little girl any more mom.”
End smiled, “But you’re always my little girl.”
Suddenly, the door slammed open and Ieros stepped in, wielding a blade of blazing light. The Librarian turned to face him, casually moving his horizontally, dissipating the blade with the greatest of ease.
He said, “I’m not here to destroy you, I’m here for other reasons.”
Ieros, still hostile, demanded, “And what might that be?”
The Librarian answered, “I accepted Silren’s invitation to dinner.”
Ieros was about to ask some more questions when End smacked him on the head, chastising, “Now is that any way to treat our guest!? Just sit down and don’t make trouble, I’ll make dinner.”
Ieros, suitably reprimanded, took a seat, although he still glared at Erus untrustingly. Erus, for his part, just took out a book and began to record its hypotheses of the powers that Silren and Imra would display. But then it suddenly recalled the boy that had run off, it directed its gaze towards the door where he went, catching sight of a shadow quickly duck out of sight. Without paying too much attention, he returned his attention to his book, adding his hypotheses about the boy’s potential powers. But when Silren attempted to read whatever he was writing, he promptly shut the book, storing it in a dimensional pocket.
Silren pouted, “Why’d you do that?”
Erus said, “This is something personal.”
“Oh?”
Her curiosity peaked, she asked, “Oh, what is it?”
Erus said, “It’s also private.”
“Aw, can’t you tell me?”
He shook his head.
“No, I cannot.”
She pouted some more but gave up, she knew that she couldn’t pester him into giving up the information, she had already tried that many times and no matter how stubborn she was, his patience knew no limits.
Their little conversation drew the attention of Imra who asked, “What are you guys talking about?”
Erus replied, “It is of no great importance.”
It was then that a voice spoke up, rather loudly, “Hey dad, who is that?”
Both Erus and Ieros turned to see the source of the voice, it was the last remaining child of both End and Ieros.
Ieros beamed, “Ah, there’s my boy!”
He stood and swept up his son in a warm hug before setting him down again, saying, “He, well, he is your mother’s brother. He’s... family.”
Erus cocked his head to one side, “Family?”
End said, bringing the first plates of food to the table, “Of course you’re family, you are my brother and you are always welcome here.”
Erus paused, taking in this information before finally saying, “Then should it prove necessary, I will make myself welcome.”
Returning his attention to the boy, he decided to introduce himself first, pulling off his hood and revealing his face. His silver eyes locked onto the boy’s own and he extended a hand, knowing this to be a common gesture of greetings among mortals.
“Hello, son of Ieros. I am Erus, the Librarian.”
The boy was a bit hesitant but in the end, he took Erus’s hand, saying in a strong, clear voice, “I am Ivaran.”
Erus nodded, “Hmm, a nice name. I believe that an ancient elven prince once bore that name, he possessed many titles, the foremost of them being Mage King. I do wonder, will you too become a Mage King?”
Ivaran, his chest puffed proudly, “Of course I will!”
Then some moments later, he asked, “What’s a mage king?”
Erus paused for a moment, picturing the pertaining book before reaching through dimensions and pulling it out, flipping to a certain page, beginning to describe the Mage King in a soft yet clear voice.
“It’s been said that the elves of old have long since been mages, beings who Magic favored more than other races, for the elves still asked for Magic to complete their wish instead of command. And the most favored of all of them was Ivaran, the Mage King. It’s been said that he was the embodiment of Magic herself, or perhaps her Chosen One. No wish of his was too great for Magic to answer, whatever he desired, she would fulfill. And one of his wishes was to create a great city, a city created by mages for mages. As the creator of Venatar, he was crowned its ruler and became the Mage King. Under his reign, Venatar flourished and became known throughout the country as a utopia, mages from all over traveling to live in the city. But, alas, it was not to be. There was a particularly jealous goddess who decided that such a city could not exist, ordering her numerous children to destroy the city. A great war ensued between the Mage King and her children, one which the Mage King eventually lost. But he did not lose without a fight, the goddess had lost many of her children in order to defeat the Mage King. Although he has died, there are rumors that those of his bloodline still exists, exceptional individuals who are blessed by Magic.”
As he spoke, a mirage accompanied his words, sort of like a three-dimensional version of the Surveyor’s memory of this. It showed the Mage King being blessed by Magic, the creation of Venatar and its subsequent fall, also showing the Mage King’s great battle against the children of the goddess. He stopped speaking and the images abruptly disappeared, much to the disappointment of everyone who had listened with rapt attention.
Ivaran finally spoke, asking, “How is one blessed by Magic?”
Erus said, “Magic herself must find you worthy of her blessing, you cannot ask nor desire it.”
“Oh.”
Ivaran seemed a little disappointed.
“Then I guess I can’t ask her to bless me.”
Ignoring her brother’s dismay, Silren asked, “Can you tell another story?”
Imra agreed, “Yes please, another story.”
Ivaran quickly forgot his disappointment and looked at Erus with gleaming eyes, obviously wanting another story.
But End suddenly spoke, “Come on, let’s eat. Your uncle can read another story after we eat.”
Ivaran whined, “Aw, can’t we eat later?”
End shook her head firmly, “No, we are eating now, storytime later.”
So with no choice, Ivaran took his seat next to Erus, plying him with questions as they ate, Erus patiently answering them all while he ate the food. This food was considerably better than the last time he was here, although that was to be expected. Ivaran soon finished and impatiently waited for Erus to finish as well, pestering him for a story until Erus pulled another book from the Library, his slim fingers carefully caressing each page as he flipped through them. He suddenly stopped and his hand seemed to hesitate over a certain page, a small smile appearing onto his lips before disappearing just as fast.
“Ah, I had almost forgotten.”
He then took a breath and began, a visual representation of this particular story accompanying the words he spoke.
“During a time of war and chaos, the world was forced to produce strong men in order to cope. One of these strong men was Azemar, the greatest general of his time. Starting out as a mere sergeant in some nameless army under an equally nameless king, he ascended the ranks of the military to where he was now, the commander of the greatest army ever seen in nearly three hundred years. With narrow victories and daring attacks, he gave the nameless king a name and made sure that his own name rang throughout the entire continent, he was Azemar! When he was faced with unbeatable odds, he beat them; when he was outnumbered ten to one, he lessened their numbers; when he was trapped with nowhere to go, he made an opening to go through. His intellect of the art of war was far beyond others of his own time, his battles were the paintings of the art that was called War. Within that era of war and blood, he created a mountain on which peace could be established. And his final battle, his Magnum Opus, was the Battle of King Makers. This battle was where he faced his one and only rival, the only man that Azemar came to respect. His name was Zonaras, a man who came from the Far West, his black hair and eyes as well as his noticeably more tanned skin making him a unique sight. Also known as a great general, he was the only one who proved to be Azemar’s match, having accomplished many of the feats that Azemar had done. He too had beat unbeatable odds, he had escaped out of inescapable traps, he had outnumbered the enemy who outnumbered him. Both geniuses of war, both King Makers. But only one could make the Greatest King and the battle to decide that was long and hard, with a mountain of bodies and an ocean of blood serving as the price for making the Greatest King. Among those that were used to pay this price, Zonaras was one of them, the last casualty of this war who died by Azemar’s hand in a fair dual. With the death of Zonaras, Azemar had won but he did not feel excitement, rather, he felt a great emptiness, his rival had become a part of him in some was, he was much of the reason that Azemar had fought , he had fought to defeat him but now that he had done it, Azemar did not know what to do. So after becoming the great general, he retired from the military, he had already done all that there was to do, he could do nothing else. He did go on to lead one last military campaign nearing the end of his life, one last final campaign to unite all of Occasus. However, that never came to pass, the Great Calamity occurred and he was one of many to fall to it. Thus ended the tale of Azemar the King Maker, a great man but a man nonetheless.”
Erus closed the book softly and returned it to the Library, Ivaran disappointed that the story ended on such an unsatisfying note.
“Isn’t the ending more interesting?”
Erus shook his head, ‘No, it isn’t. This is a historical recounting of events that happened a millennia ago, this is how Azemar came to pass.“
Ivaran pouted, “Well that isn’t much fun at all.”
Erus looked at him and nodded, “Yes, reality can be quiet disappointing sometimes.”