Tim chased the rat through the musty darkness. The rat left a triangle wake of disturbed dust in its path. It swirled in ethereal patterns, and if Tim were not choking on it, he might have appreciated how it shone blue in the wan light.
After what almost seemed like hours of chasing the wretched thing through the archives, the rat finally stopped, and Tim fell to his knees panting for breath. “Ple... ase, just wait a mo- guh! - moment,” He choked out, leaning onto a nearby bookshelf for support, sliding down onto the chilly ground. He realized the stone felt quite nice, so he stretched out in the middle of the path. As silent as ever, the rat simply stared at him as he pathetically wheezed like a dying starfish on the ground. Tim could have sworn the rat was disappointed in his level of fitness, but he told himself he was being ridiculous. He was actually surprised and more than a little pleased he could jog that long.
As Tim struggled for air, the rat bounded up a bookcase behind his head and disappeared on top of it. It looked down at Tim and sniffed, then disappeared again. Tim heard some scraping, then a corner of a book peeked over the edge, wedged between the structure and the craggy stone ceiling. Exhaustion forgotten, Tim rolled over and stood up, stretching on his toes to reach the top of the shelf. His fingers barely found purchase, and he pulled it out.
It was extraordinarily old. Its leather cover was water damaged and impossible to read. Bits of it fell off in Tim’s hand. He was practically shaking with curiosity over what book this strangely intelligent rat had led him to.
I wonder… will this be some amazing, forgotten information, or will it be something stupid like a guide to cheese-making? Tim shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the goal at hand. He opened it reverently, careful not to damage the cover any further. He flinched and covered his eyes at what he saw – preservation runes, shining brighter than his lamp! The power these held, and for this long, to stay that bright?
His eyes adjusted to the light and he could finally make out the title. “A Full History of the Heroes, Past and Present, Kept Current? But no author?” Tim could feel himself shaking with anticipation. Why did the author not sign it? Who could have written this? What does it mean, kept current? Holy shit! This book is even magically updated through runes! Chuckling with glee, Tim sat down where he stood and immediately dove into the one-of-a-kind tome of knowledge he had found. With a thump and a puff of dust the rat joined Tim, climbing into Tim’s pocket for the last crumbs of the cookies.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The night had come and passed, bringing a new light and a new day. Tim rubbed his eyes, glancing to the ancient book in his lap that he had found.
“I can’t believe it. I really can’t,” He protested. Not at the fact that he spent all night reading, but at the insane claims the magic book had made. “I can understand the heroes not being perfect, but this is crazy.”
With all his heart he wished this book were full of lies, but who would go to the effort of enchanting a book, only to hide it away, if it were not truth? What was more, both the writing style and penmanship strongly reminded Tim of the great scholar Demu, a native to this world and somewhat of a celebrity. If anyone knew anything, it would be him. Feeling sick, Tim picked up the book, looking once more at the unbelievable information it held within its pages.
“In the year of our heroes, 1050 PH, the scholar-hero Anna is credited with the invention of the drug methamphetamine in collaboration with the hero Iver. She writes in a memo to the king: ‘While the side effects are horrendous, this drug shows promise in raising funds for our kingdom’s many international dealings. Unofficial distribution shall be started immediately with your approval.’
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In the year of our heroes, 1051 PH, the hero Iver proved the efficiency and cost-effectiveness of human experimentation in advancing the field of alchemy. Despite the near 100% mortality rate of the subjects, the researchers are optimistic about the results they can bring in. Authorization has been granted to the governor’s offices in order to make a slum district in the city for ready access to fresh subjects.
In the year of our heroes, 1071 PH, the joint proposal brought to the government by the heroes Iver and Magnus, stating the viability of an ethnic cleansing of the peaceable demon peoples and the abominations they produce amongst our wives and daughters, is hereby postponed indefinitely until stronger heroes are summoned. The rich lands they inhabit are projected to be ours within the century.”
The words felt like ash and rot in Tim’s mouth as he read them out loud. The claims this book made were outlandish, and went against everything Tim knew, but the scholar Demu, if it was really him, had always been a reputable source. He hated the demons for what they had done, but something about the words “ethnic cleansing” made him feel uneasy.
“Buddy, I don’t understand…” Tim asked the rat, hoping to find some sort of sense in the insanity he had just read. “If the heroes really did all these bad things, how could we not know? Hah, oh I get it! It’s a joke! Very funny, rat.” The rat stared at Tim, unblinking, then reached over to the last few pages of the book that Tim had not read yet and tapped them with its paw. Tim’s heart sank to his feet as he flipped to the pages with shaking fingers.
“In the year of our heroes, 2000 PH, the heroes Kevin, Adrian, Elena, Warren, and Eleanor have accomplished the Ivernian contingency, completely wiping out all members of the demon race. In the year of our heroes, 2003 PH, the hero Warren was deemed unfit to carry his title and was executed by the hero Adrian.”
“Holy shit. Warren didn’t go back to his home world Earth. He was fucking killed. That makes so much sense,” Tim muttered, thinking back to the events he had heard about 12 years ago, back when he was still a child. “That’s why there was no going-away ceremony, no white pillars signifying a summoning or return.” He looked once more at the book, albeit more seriously than before. Shit. Demu might be telling the truth of all of this. Tim caressed the runes that automatically updated the book, deep in thought. Then, almost as if to get his attention, a tiny paw tapped his arm. He looked at the rat, and then looked at the book.
“I see. You want me to continue.” Tim once more opened to the back pages, turning to the most recent events.
“In the year of our heroes, 2010 PH, the hero Adrian was brought before the hero oversight committee to answer for the Neverstreet killings, where all 20 people walking the street were brutally stabbed to death. The hero Adrian refused a lawyer, instead using the severed head of one of the victims to speak for him in deliberate mockery of the proceedings. Upon the issuing of several threats of disembowelment towards the oversight committee, the hero Adrian was acquitted of all charges and the killings have been ordered to be covered up. The committee was adjourned by the hero Adrian tea-bagging the evidence and threatening to kill the families of all observers. Being thoroughly terrified by this outright show of force and disrespect, the observers complied. And so this horrible tragedy was forgotten.”
As Tim read the last line in horror, the book began to heat up to almost unbearable temperatures. “Ow!” Tim yelled uncreatively, dropping the book on the ground in pain. He blew on his singed fingers, but all pain was forgotten upon the sight of new paper being magically formed, with words being scorched onto the newly created paper.
Tim leaned forward, reading out the words as they formed. “In the year of our heroes, 2015 PH, the hero Kevin completed the ‘maid restocking mission’, in which he kidnapped several women he called ‘npcs’ from the slums. The women were never seen again.”
The blood drained from Tim’s face, leaving as pale as a full moon. “That’s this year,” Tim realized, covering his face with his hands in despair. “Rat. Why have you shown me this? What am I supposed to do with this knowledge? No one will believe some random half-elf if he makes these serious allegations against famous heroes. If anyone finds out I will be killed!” Tim despaired “There’s nothing I can do. There’s no one who can get vengeance for me. Are the demons even to blame, or the heroes? For Maria?! I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do…”
As smooth as melted butter, a monotone voice spoke.
“You have to take matters into your own hands, Tim.”