A few more minutes go by in this agonizing silence. Then, the sounds of writing stopped. The doors into the chamber opened and a figure walked out. One Kanrel hadn’t seen since the last time he had visited the Forum. Vaur’Kou’n, their face solemn with a hint of annoyance found hidden behind that veil of solemnness, as if he had just heard news, he wasn’t too happy about. He stopped after a few steps as the doors closed behind him, and seeing Kanrel and Y’Kraun, there was not a hint of surprise in his expression at that moment; he just seemed more annoyed. He scoffed loudly and walked in front of the reception desk.
And as he turned away from Kanrel and the rest, Kanrel could see what he wore on his back. A cloak. One as gray as the stone floors of the Atheian lands; one that was embroidered with a symbol that he had now seen once before: A chained eye, wide open, its iris as red as the sunrise could be.
He almost exclaimed in recognition but held his tongue; so many questions forced into his head, so many things that he had to ask, but he held his tongue and instead listened to the words soon exchanged between the captain and the Receptionist. He would have his chance to ask his questions later.
“I see that your new mission is to your liking.” The Receptionist observed; they clearly knew what had gone on inside, perhaps long before Vaur’Kou’n had stepped inside.
The captain scoffed again, “From babysitting one fool to another, it feels that my talents are left unappreciated.” He noted.
“It is not the work that defines the value of your talents; it is how much you get paid.” The Receptionist pointed and from beneath their desk brought out a small container. “And it would seem that your talents are valued more than most others.”
Vaur’Kou’n accepted the chest with a lopsided smile. “If only one could pair that with words of appreciation, I just might fall in love with them.”
“Is your loyalty so easily bought with vain compliments?”
Vaur’Kou’n scoffed and replied before turning away from the desk, “Of course not, but pair that with gold and I’ll be eternally theirs…” And as he turned around, he again met Kanrel’s gaze, one that apparently he could read quite easily, so he took a few steps forth and stopped in front of them.
He smiled, “I see that you aren’t as blind as I thought you to be.”
Kanrel blinked, “Well, one can’t so easily miss a symbol as recognizable as yours… Now tell me, captain, were you the one who bothered me during my self-imposed exile into that cave?” He soon asked.
“Well, of course… It is my job, after all, to keep an eye on people of interest. I did so with your previous host, A’Daur’Kra, and a few before him; now it just happened to be your turn. This time from further away, but I imagine that there will be no hard feelings between us. It is just business, after all.” Vaur’Kou’n spoke; his tone wasn’t gleeful, and he didn’t seem overly pleased with himself nor the work that he had to do; he just simply explained the situation, although his attempts at apologizing weren’t the most earnest; rather, it seemed like a menial task they had to do, as much as was the surveillance he had done.
Kanrel sighed; he had no argument against it. He was in their lands, an alien creature who might or might not be a problem. A mere Darshi in the world of the Atheians; one that could be an issue if not observed and kept from causing unnecessary disturbance.
“Fine, but there is just one question that I have…”
Vaur’Kou’n raised his brows, “Ask away; I might answer, depending on the question, of course.”
“What does the symbol on your cloak mean?” Kanrel asked.
Another lopsided smile found its way onto Vaur’Kou’n’s lips, “A symbol for people like me, and nothing more…” He said and then turned his attention to Y’Kraun, “Congratulations on your wedding. I think that you and your dear U’Ran’Ui make a grand couple—you’re certain to hear good news in just a few days; the council is pleased…” His smile became whole and soon vanished, he nodded at Gar and said, “Professor,” and walked away, leaving the trio more baffled than anything else.
“A friend of yours?” Gar asked; he was perhaps the most confused out of the three.
“Vaur’Kou’n is his name. I am sure you’ve heard of him.” Y’Kraun said; his throat must’ve felt dry as he soon cleared it.
Gar’s eyes went wide. The man had never met the ill-famed Vaur’Kou’n before. “I’ve only heard stories of him, but said stories seldom give accurate depictions of what such a person might truly look like… or how they truly are…” Gar said, on his face was an expression of curiosity, he then smiled and added, “He seems much nicer than what I heard.”
Y’Kraun and Gar continued talking about the captain, and Y’Kraun shared that this had been perhaps the first time that Vaur’Kou’n had been so “nice to them.” Which surprised Gar.
Kanrel was instead stuck in his own thoughts, not paying much attention to their conversation.
A lie. Vaur’Kou’n had lied to him. Not very convincingly, but he had done so either way. The truth, whatever it may be, about the symbol and its true meaning was left a mystery. Of course, there was a possibility that Vaur’Kou’n had spoken the truth and intentionally announced it in a way that made Kanrel doubt him, but this, somehow, felt unlikely. It was more so a lie with certain intent as well as a message: “I know what you want to know, yet you won’t hear what you wish to learn from me so easily.” It was also possible that he wasn’t allowed to tell the whole truth, instead, only a cryptic half-truth.
“You may enter.” His line of thought was brought to an abrupt stop by the Receptionist, whose gaze studied Kanrel’s facial expressions, perhaps seeing the curiosity and even the annoyance within.
Kanrel and the two Atheians got up and walked forth to the doors that then opened before them. As he was to take a step past the threshold, the Receptionist added, “Answers you shall receive, perhaps not today, but surely before your death, all that you desire you shall know.” The Receptionist returned their gaze back onto the papers, and with their pen, they wrote something down, and Kanrel stepped past the threshold, even though he wished to ask them what they meant with their words…
They entered a round room, where lights descended from above and five figures stood in a semi-circle; they wore the same dark robes that covered their bodies, a hood that covered their heads, and masks with long bird-like beaks; the masks had no eyes or any other significant features.
The doors slammed shut behind them, and a hum wavered around the circular room; it bounced from wall to wall, ricocheting continuously and without stopping, until he, again, could feel how his ears got blocked, and else sound became more muffled than it had been before.
Then a bell rang; a new hum, yet the same one that he had heard just a few years back; it overshadowed the previous one. It was deeper and more intense; it was slow and lasted for minutes before silence took over. His ears opened up, but still, the sound of the bell rang deep within his head. He could now focus; he felt less anxious. He felt at peace, for the storm that had rumbled outside this room had since gone; it was as if it had never been in the first place.
Was this the reason as to why they struck the bell as such? Then why was there all that fear and anxiety-mongering outside? What was the purpose of these two things?
"When knowledge is sought by the young, it is the duty of elders to share their wisdom and guide them onto the right path." A voice with a familiar, metallic distortion pronounced. One of the five had said as such.
“Yet you yourself have knowledge that you do not wish to share, is it not so, Kanrel Iduldian?” A second voice asked.
"We have heard of your... experiments. The whispers in the shadows carry secrets, and we listen more intently than most." A third voice added.
"We know what you seek and where it lies, but we question whether we should guide you—guidance that may lead you to ruin." A fourth voice pondered.
“… Or should we deny you that which you desire the most?” A fifth voice asked.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“So tell us, Kanrel Iduldian, is it life that you see at the end of your desires, or is it death, as there is for so many of us?” The first then asked after a moment's silence, and now, the questions asked lingered in the air and echoed in the round room.
At that moment, Kanrel made a decision. He fell to his knees, as would any Atheian do in such a situation; he placed his head on the floor of the circular room and spoke, "New knowledge in the wrong hands can lead to irreversible mistakes. What I’ve discovered could be used for great harm, which is why I cannot share it so freely."
“And what I see at the end of this road is not just one or the other; what I see is both, for one cannot be without the other. In the end, there might be self-destruction, but at least it would be out of my own willingness, and it, too, could become something valuable in the eyes of the world. Perhaps as nothing more than proof of my own foolishness…” Kanrel said and kept his head against the floor; only when asked would he arise.
The second voice chuckled, “It seems that you’ve long ago decided upon the path that you might go down.”
“We could deny you this.” The third voice added, “But what value would further imprisonment placed upon you give us?” The fourth continued.
“What can you give us?” The fifth asked.
A bell was struck, and a higher-pitched sound echoed in the room; it gave another wave of clarity, or so it seemed.
"A new theory of magic," Kanrel said once the echo faded.
The first voice scoffed, "You claim to possess knowledge beyond our own?”
“You intrigue us, Darshi, and now you must convince us.” The second voice spoke in turn, its metallic distortion unable to conceal the smile the person behind the mask must have had.
Kanrel swallowed. How much would be enough? Was the language he created—the concept of coding—enough? Or would he have to give everything?
“If I may?” He asked.
“Rise, Kanrel Iduldian, and show us this new theory of magic you claim to have.” The third voice urged.
So he got up and again saw the five figures standing before him; they were so tall that he would surely feel it in his neck the next day. “Visualization is key to how your people use magic. And I believe that I have created a system that allows more efficiency when perfected by its user. Let me demonstrate.” Kanrel spoke; he then formed a code, one that he thought of on the spot, and soon letters and numbers formed from the fire before them: F4^2 P2.
"These symbols—letters and numbers—may seem meaningless on paper, but in my mind, they hold new meaning."
“And this new meaning is simple: the first letter stands for fire, the numbers that follow it are the shape I want this fire to be in, in this case, a small square, and the second letter and number that then follow it are how powerful I wish the flames to be,” Kanrel explained.
"With this, I no longer need to imagine flames or their shapes. By using this prepared code, I can summon the desired form and intensity of any magical element." He continued, then used said code a couple of times, and in quick succession, multiple small squares of fire spawned into the room, some on the ground, some in the air, but all not too close to the five council members lest they be alarmed and decide to remove him from this life.
“Surely an unorthodox way of doing things, but curious, indeed.” The fourth voice said—they didn’t seem too impressed.
“We suppose that there is some usefulness to it, but this is to be seen…” The fifth voice added.
“But we cannot say that this is enough in trade for the knowledge that you so wish to learn…” The fifth began, but the second voice stopped the first, “This is plenty; this is more than enough.”
Silence ensued.
A bell was then struck, one tone higher than the previous. Its sound echoed in the circular room, breaking the silence that had been there before it, and when it stopped, the third spoke, “We’ve reached a conclusion, one not fully agreed upon by all the members of the council, but with a majority vote, we will now give our verdict…”
"Your 'new theory of magic' strikes us as a novelty. While it may prove useful in certain situations, we have refined our system over thousands of years. It is unlikely we have not tried—and dismissed—similar methods." The fourth voice continued.
“But even then, we’ve decided that you may gain entrance into the sanctuary, where a trade of information will commence. For this theory of yours, you shall receive what you wish to learn, but you must then vow that you hear within shall remain a secret to all other ears… Lest you lose your life.” The fifth finished, and another bell rang in the circular room.
And when the bell sound stopped, they were just dismissed. Gar and Y’Kraun weren’t addressed, and not a single command did they receive from the Council of Many Faces.
Kanrel stepped outside, back into the reception area, where the Receptionist awaited them, standing right before them, in their hands a piece of paper. The Receptionist looked at Kanrel and only Kanrel, “From one cave to another, I wonder where you shall find the light that gives you a truth to your liking…” They said.
“But alas, I fear that we might not see each other for many years to come… But let me read your commands…” The Receptionist said and then read from the piece of paper, “The Darshi, Kanrel Iduldian, is to spend a year within the Sanctuary under constant surveillance; there he will be allowed to read whichever tome he wishes, but in trade, he will recite his theory of magic to an appointed guide, who then will write it all down and test it with your help. He will not be permitted to leave until we are satisfied.”
Kanrel stared blankly at the voice of mixed news. How can something be good and so bad at the same time? He would get what he most wanted, but in trade, he would give years of his life. Again. It tasted bitter in his mouth; it felt bitter within his mind. Years he had wasted to get here, and more years he will waste at his first destination…
His legs almost gave way, but he managed to stay up. He accepted the piece of paper from the Receptionist and read it through a few times; there were some symbols and words that he couldn’t quite understand, but he got the gist of it. He let out a long sigh as he almost cursed under his breath, “Shit.”
The Receptionist smiled, “Now, now, dear Kanrel, such words need not be uttered, as these terms are only to be accepted and lived through; only then will you survive and become a greater man.”
“I will await you; soon you will find your way back to me.” They promised and returned to their seat and many reports and arcs of paper that covered the whole table.
Kanrel took it as another dismissal, and he walked out of the reception area of the last floor with Y’Kraun and Gar right behind him.
“Well, that went a lot better than I thought it would.” Gar muttered, “I thought that I’d lose my life just then… Also, I’ve never felt so thoroughly ignored by so many people. It is as if… we were nothing before them… As if… they only had their eyes on you.”
Y’Kraun shivered, “I am more used to such treatment but never to such a degree.” He said, “But I must say, a year seems a bit harsh…”
Gar scoffed, “I’m sure it goes by fast, to be surrounded by the knowledge that most desire and only a select few ever get the chance to study… Honestly, I am more jealous now than I was at your wedding.”
“You were jealous? Of me?” Y’Kraun asked; the amusement in his voice was crystal clear.
“You shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Kanrel at last spoke, “He will never let this moment go. He will become more and more gleeful in the next year; never give him the joy; spite him as much as you can.” He advised, trying his best to hide away not only disappointment but also the fear that persisted, that arrived and seated itself within him. For there was something he had realized after hearing the “commands.”
Just how many years would it take before he could reach home? If, by the end of that year, he will have spent three years in these lands of shadows below, then how many years would it take to find the practically mythical stairway that might be somewhere in the east, if he would even survive the journey to the east?