The spiral staircase led to passageways that made the basement into a maze. In it, Solomon seemed to have an area for whatever he could think of. A bakery, butchery, library, and more. His stomach growled. Solomon led him through the place with long, swift steps so that Aurelius had to jog behind. That wasn't a problem for his legs anymore, though.

"Did you... build all this?"

"I've had time."

Aurelius chuckled but got serious, still unsure what was so urgent he had to attend to it while malnourished and tired. "Where are we going?"

"We're here," Solomon answered, turning the corner. Aurelius caught up to see a small room with every wall riddled with valuables from antique swords to diamond crowns.

But most of all, Aurelius found himself gravitating towards a red cloak with golden markings that hung above on the front wall. Aurelius reached a hand up, walking closer.

"Don't touch anything," Solomon shot a sharp reprimand at him, seeming to sense his intention.

Aurelius quickly remembered where he was and who he was with. He was about to apologize when Solomon put a hand up and spoke. "This is about your father."

"My father?" Aurelius asked if he heard correctly, a mix of excitement and nervousness stirring in him.

Solomon picked a gilded tome from the wall where it lay next to a peculiar black and white one. "This is his biography. I understand that you know the writer quite well."

Aurelius leaned back, blinking. "What? Why?" Solomon tilted his head like he was asking if he could be any less specific. "I mean... Is that real? I don't know any writ—" Then it hit him. The only person who could've written it was the same person who had never answered his questions properly before: Gabriel.

Solomon seemed to follow his thoughts. "You want answers?" he asked, raising his long eyebrows. "About your lineage, your father, and who you are in the grand scheme of things."

"There's no book about that out there. I'd know. I've tried looking."

"That's right. There is nothing like that out there. This piece is a closely guarded treasure of the Zalfarian royal family. I believe it has been copied less than ten times, many of which were sought out and destroyed."

"How'd you get your hands on it then?" Aurelius questioned intensely, his attention eaten up by the beautiful tome.

"I wanted it," Solomon said simply. "And as you can see," he continued, gesturing at all the contents of the treasury, "I get what I want." Solomon then put his hand forward, holding the tome before Aurelius. "So... do you want it?"

Aurelius didn't answer, nor did he reach out. To have it just handed to him felt wrong. All those mysteries he'd obsessed over all his life were laid bare before him. Solomon waited until Aurelius reached out in a sudden rush of fervour.

Solomon pulled the tome away. "Don't get feisty now." His eyes swept over the masterpiece. "This is one of the richest, most sought-after pieces of literature in history. You will not come out of it as the same person."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Enough," Aurelius snapped, forgetting who he was talking to. "Give it to me."

Solomon slapped him across the head. Aurelius stumbled weakly to his knees with a groan.

"Me letting you read this is not a favor that will come without a cost. Do you understand?"

Aurelius shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, I'll do it." He reached a hand out. "Please."

Finally, Solomon handed it to him. The weighty tome felt familiar in his hands. He opened it, peeking at the title. He had a little trouble making out the Zalfarian letters. "Beside Ares," he read.

"That's one way to see it. As for me, I've always read it as 'The Side of Ares'. In all truth, it is not the answer to the things I mentioned. It is certainly an answer, but not the definitive one. I suspect that is why Gabriel never answered those questions for you. You were too young to know. Whether or not you still are, I don't know. But I suppose that if you aren't, you won't have the power to cause harm with your misconceptions."

"I see," Aurelius said, though he barely heard as he sat mouth agape on the floor of the treasury with the tome in his lap.

Before Solomon left him, he gave him the oil lamp and said, "Go work in the library. There's a translation dictionary for Zalfarian there."

"I have a handle on Zalfarian through the common tongue," Aurelius said with a wave of a hand.

"Trust me, you'll need that. Even for Zalfarians, reading Gabriel is like learning a new language," Solomon assured, "The Scholar of the Elite Troop, he's called.' Aurelius nodded to get him to leave. "Also, feel free to visit the bakery and butchery before you die." Then he walked into the dark maze.

Aurelius remembered his hunger and held his stomach. He then wiped the sleep from his eyes and got up, clutching the tome tightly to his chest.

***

After wandering through the maze-like basement, Aurelius found himself at a desk in the library with an oil lamp and dried meat as company.

The tome was roughly half a thousand pages. In addition, the translation dictionary was no smaller, which made Aurelius question how long exactly it would take for him to get through the piece if what Solomon said was true.

On the first page there was a dedication to Alexander the 6th, Aurelius' uncle, who had apparently commissioned the biography from Gabriel 'for preservation of an invaluable soul as well as cultivation of wisdom for the Zalfarian rulers of future generations'.

On the next page, the structure was laid out. It was divided into ten chapters.

1: Encountering Ares

2: Times Before Kendrick

3: His Absence Felt

4: His Return Revered

5: Leading the Army

6: Becoming the Hero

7: The Elite Troop

8: Way of the Commander

9: Facing the Conqueror

10: Operation Ultimus

As much as Aurelius wanted to see the end right then, he couldn't bring himself to do so. When he was younger, he probably would have done so. Now he realized his father's death couldn't come before his life and set out on the journey one page at a time.

He could hear Gabriel's voice right out of the gate in the preface that it took almost half an hour to translate.

"I write this only because I was bid to do so by my dear friend and Emperor Alexander the 6th. I am Gabriel of Zalfari, sole survivor of the operation and battle now known as Ultimus.

"To begin, I am no historian. My sole desire is to keep the greatest man who ever walked alive in the collective memory of those who lay claim to the Zalfarian Empire of the future. This will, I doubt, be a book written in a great manner, but its contents at least are worth reading. That I promise. It is, however, not a matter of great concern to me whether you think me incapable of writing a book.

"When it occurred to me that I am regarded as the individual who knows his story the best of every single soul that still pulses with life, my heart panged with sadness, for I never thought I knew him very well. I believe the mother of his child, Clara, knows his heart far better than anyone, but I gained no help from her in my writing of this.

"Hence, here is all that I, a weary soldier, can say of my commander."

When Aurelius was about to flip the page to the first chapter, he found himself wondering, 'After I read this, will I finally get what I've asked for ever since I was a little boy in my mother's lap?'

There was only one way to find out. He turned to the next page and glimpsed a foreign world he felt he'd always known but never understod.