CHAPTER 116 – THE SIX MURALS
LYSANDER FARADEISS
I step into the unfamiliar terrain of the ritual site, a place that should be familiar, the very spot where I once performed Regression Magic, bending time to my will. But the room before me now is a stark contrast.
Recollection brings forth the image of the ritual site adorned with intricate layers of magical circles etched into the floor. Yet, what lies beneath my gaze is a bare expanse of brick, devoid of any mystic symbols. Despite my attempts to illuminate the darkness with the flicker of torch magic, there's nothing of significance to be found. The emptiness envelops me, leaving behind only a sense of eerie vacancy. It's as if the room itself has been wiped clean, a canvas awaiting its first brushstroke.
Where once stood an altar, now there is naught but emptiness. No pentagram graces the walls, no sigils of crossed eyes stare back at me. The absence of any trace of the enigmatic Foreign God, feared by the Republic, is conspicuous.
“Lysander,” Johnny's voice breaks through my contemplation. I turn to meet his gaze, following his silent cue.
Yet, the room beckons further exploration. Beyond the surface, a staircase descends into the unknown depths below. With a nod of gratitude to Johnny, I begin the descent, anticipation mingling with trepidation. What lies beneath this ritual site remains a mystery, shrouded in uncertainty.
The descent is swift, and as we reach the bottom of the stairs, a vast chamber stretches out before us. Murals adorn the walls, depicting a forgotten history of our planet, reminiscent of ancient civilizations long lost to time.
The murals lining the chamber's walls tell a tale as ancient as time itself. Each stroke of paint whispers a story of its own, weaving together a narrative that transcends generations.
The first mural captures the timeless bond between dragon and elf, their figures etched in intricate detail against a backdrop of mystical landscapes. In the next, a dragon adorned with a regal crown commands attention, symbolizing power and sovereignty.
As my gaze travels further, I'm confronted with the grim depiction of a planet consumed by the jaws of a black dragon, a harbinger of destruction and chaos. The following mural paints a scene of three dragons unleashing torrents of flames upon hapless humans, a reminder of the primal forces that shape our world.
Yet, amidst the chaos, there lies a glimmer of hope in the form of the fifth mural, where humans find refuge underground as dragons rule the skies above. And finally, the last mural portrays a sage standing defiantly before the crowned dragon, a testament to courage in the face of tyranny.
Johnny's voice breaks through the silence, his words laden with significance as he traces the elvish texts beneath the images. Memories of a distant past resurface as he speaks, connecting the dots between the murals and the engravings in the Cathedral's underground ritual site.
"These murals... they tell the history of the dragonoids," Johnny remarks, his fingers lingering on the dried ink clinging to the surface. "The Trailblazer Dragon, the first of his kind, bestowed with life by the divine touch of the Goddess Exceria."
"The Trailblazer Dragon?" I repeat, the name resonating with newfound meaning.
"Yes, much like yourself," Johnny affirms, his gaze meeting mine. "Just as Hiraya transformed you."
In that moment, the murals come alive, breathing life into a saga of legends and destiny, leaving us to ponder the significance of our own roles in this ancient tale.
With measured steps, Johnny guides me through the gallery of ancient chronicles, each mural a chapter in the epic saga of dragonkind.
He pauses before the second mural, where a dragon crowned with regal authority commands attention. "This is the Trailblazer Dragon, elevated to the status of Dragon King," Johnny explains. "He united with the divine goddess, siring countless offspring and establishing a dominion where dragons reigned supreme."
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Moving to the third mural, Johnny's voice takes on a solemn tone as he gestures towards the depiction of a planet locked in a deadly embrace with a black dragon. "Here lies the tale of the first Necross Ascension," he narrates. "A cataclysmic force destined to annihilate our world, thwarted only by the intervention of Goddess Exceria. Entrusting the Dragon King with the key to thwart its return, she sealed the Outer God away from our reality."
The fourth mural beckons our attention, revealing dragons engulfing humanity in a relentless onslaught of flames. "In response to the looming threat of Necross, the Dragon King decreed the eradication of humanity," Johnny recounts, his voice heavy with the weight of history. "Their souls, deemed essential for the prevention of Necross's resurgence, became targets of draconic fury."
As we turn our gaze to the fifth mural, the scene unfolds before us: dragons soaring through the skies while humanity seeks refuge in the depths of the earth. "To shield our world from the looming shadow of Necross, dragons forced humanity into subterranean exile," Johnny elucidates. "An act of sacrifice to safeguard our realm from the encroaching darkness."
Finally, we arrive at the sixth mural, where a sage confronts the crowned dragon in a climactic showdown. "This is Vesryn, the legendary figure who dared to challenge the might of dragons," Johnny proclaims. "Her victory marked the dawn of a new era, where the Vesryn Pulse emerged to bind the essence of dragons and render them mortal."
In the silence that follows, the weight of history hangs heavy in the air, a testament to the enduring legacy of heroes and villains woven into the fabric of time.
As I absorbed the wealth of knowledge Johnny shared, I couldn't help but wonder about the source of his insights.
“How did you know?”
“Gazelle told me.”
"How did Gazelle learn all of that?" I inquired, curiosity tugging at my thoughts.
"The Eye of Deus," Johnny murmured, his voice carrying a weight of reverence. "He claims it's the very same artifact wielded by Vesryn himself. Said it was bestowed upon him by a Dragon Knight during the Dragonoid Liberation War, though the details are scarce. All I know is that the Eye of Deus holds the key to unlocking the secrets of our world."
The revelation of hidden histories and ancient artifacts was enlightening, yet it failed to quell the gnawing concern that lingered within me. The specter of the past, embodied by the Necross Ascension, seemed distant compared to the imminent threats we faced.
With the Republic of Dragons, Gazelle Lockwood, and the mysterious dark forces at play, the present danger loomed large. Despite devising a plan alongside Hiraya to combat these adversaries, the uncertainty surrounding the enigmatic obsidian-faced unknowns cast a shadow of unease over our preparations.
My attention was drawn to the room's architecture, the murals forming an endless loop that hinted at a cyclical nature to the world's history. Without Johnny's guidance, I might have been lost amidst the cryptic symbolism.
As my gaze shifted upwards, I beheld the roots of the fantastical tree that pierced through the cathedral's surface, a tangible link to the arcane energies that permeated this sacred space. Below, a pair of magical circles etched with chalk caught my eye, their enduring presence defying the passage of time.
"Is this the ritual site you're talking about?" Johnny's inquiry brought my focus back to the present, grounding me in the reality of our surroundings.
I shook my head, dismissing Johnny's assumption. "No, these runes indicate a path towards the future, a touch upon time itself. They bear resemblance to the magical circle formulas employed by Elysian Oracles for divination."
Kneeling before the enigmatic symbols, I immersed myself in their meaning. Though akin to future sight or Presage, these circles held a unique resonance, akin to Regression Magic in their ability to project the mind forward through time, offering glimpses of what may come to pass.
A smile played upon my lips as inspiration struck. With a deft touch, I manipulated the runes, weaving my own magic into the intricate patterns. Golden light burst forth as the circles activated, their rotation a dance of anticipation.
Johnny's voice broke through my concentration, his concern palpable. "What are you doing? Have you forgotten our agreement? Are you planning to betray me?"
"On the contrary," I assured him, my focus unwavering. "I aim to strengthen our trust."
With the final adjustments made, I initiated the spell, my voice echoing the formula codes with clarity. "Activate Memory Progression Magic. Set Ten Years into the Future. Subject: Johnny Wolvesbane. Importing memories into a compact mana crystal."
The circles pulsed with golden light, coalescing into shimmering particles that gathered into my outstretched hand. Drawing upon every ounce of my mana, I condensed the memories of Johnny Wolvesbane from the previous timeline into a singular crimson crystal, its diamond-shaped form radiating with ethereal energy.
As the magical lights subsided, I presented the crystal to Johnny. "If you seek the truth, if you wish to uncover the events of the past timeline, then break this crystal with your own hands."