Chapter 11: Auxiliary Conjure
The corridor was bathed with the crimson-orange light that came from the torches. Casting disturbing shadows on Crid. All dancing eerily around him, almost performing a ritual on him.
Fortunately, the passage only lead into a straight line. With no twists and turns. If not, Crid didn't dare to think how long he would meander in this passage.
As he got deeper, a thought strayed into his mind. Why were there secret passages in the first place? Magi were people of truth. With their incurable addiction of magic, they often create new Spells. Certainly atleast one Magus had a Spell that would detect these passages.
Crid was starting to considering that a high ranking magus was involved in this, when he stumbled upon a door. The passage of time etched several cracks on it, but he thought it looked like a piece of scraped wooden plank even when it was first placed.
Pushing the door open, a creaking sound sent chills to Crid's spine. Fearing that the sound might have gave his presence away. It took him a couple of seconds for him to remember he was alone, how a comforting thought it was.
What greeted was a chamber filled with towering mounds of books, there were so many that it looked like a small mountain range. Even if thousands of people teamed up, they still wouldn't be able to finish a quarter.
Using Stealth, Crid went inside, inspecting one of the piles. He sneezed as he wiped off the thick layer of dust on the book. Fortunately, despite the book cover being rumpled and torn, the title was still legible.
"The Isolated Pearl." It read.
Crid thought it sounded familiar, though his memory was already filled to the brim with shortcuts of hundreds of secret labyrinths and thousands of pages of lore. It was already a miracle he didn't go insane with the amount of information in his brain.
Having the feeling it was important, he tried hard to browse his memories for clues, but his efforts were all for naught.
Flipping the pages, he hoped to find something that will help him remember. But most of the pages were rumpled beyond legible. Those that weren't on the other hand only had incomplete ideas.
Despite the books almost useless, Crid still couldn't help but to applaud the Magi's dedication. A normal book wouldn't last a couple of decades, unless they had special enchantments on them. But looking at the sheer amount of books, he didn't dared to think the amount of resources they used.
As he browsed further, one line caught his attention. "Your foolish mistake and your wisest decision is your profanity against the Gods." It looked like a childish scribble written on the page.
"Profanity?" Crid furrowed his brows as he delved deep in his thoughts. The gods were the pinnacle of existence in the world of Primordial Crown. Beings capable of smouldering oceans and shaking entire continents.
Fortunately, the Gods are bound by the realm they reside in. Unable to use their physical bodies in the world of mortals. To breach it however, requires a vast amount of energy. Even sending their summons would be difficult.
Crid stomped in frustration. Trying hard to figure out what these all meant. But no matter how hard he rubbed his chin, no answer came out.
"Perhaps I could help you with that." A voice sounded behind him.
Crid felt his heart stop as he heard the foreign voice. Ducking without a second thought as he unsheathed his dagger. He expected his dagger to slice the ankles off of whoever was behind him, but his dagger only passed by. Not leaving a single wound on those bare feet.
It felt immaterial, almost as if what he hit was a ghost. He looked up at the face of whatever he provoke, but what greeted him as a chilling smile from a child.
"Hi there!" It greeted with an enthusiastic grin, crouching to see Crid's face. "How are you?! Me? I'm great, more than great in fact. Oh were you suprised? I'm just an auxiliary conjure, with no physical body. Oh how I wished I had one..."
As the conjure rained down an endless shower of stories, Crid also crouched, mimicking the boy. Though all of the boy's words passed his ears, he was instead completely focused if the conjure was a threat.
His eyes were like a snake as it slithered to examine the conjure's body. The conjure wore a simple white shirt with a jumper that connected it from his black shorts. Seeing that the boy didn't had something hidden on him, Crid finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He laid on the dusty floor, taking his time to relax. If the boy was a threat, he would be in a tight situation. Auxiliary conjures were bound to place they control, having full authority over the traps and entrances, as well as the ability to see everything within the vicinity.
But instead of seeing him as an enemy, the conjure welcomed him with open arms. Maybe after being alone for centuries, the conjure just wanted someone to talk to. He thought.
Afterall, Crid also went into isolation numerous times in his life. Though unlike the conjure, he didn't want to see anyone, and would rather die then be desperate of their company.
"It's been sooooo long since someone had came here, my master used to always visit. Which reminds me, you're like him. A young kid that likes trouble. I forgot to tell you my name, it's Velvet." The conjure said proudly. "Master is bad at naming things, so he named me with the first thing he saw..."
"Wait." Crid said, seeing that Velvet is gearing up for another round of stories, he stopped him immediately. "You told me you could help me. Now tell me, what does this mean by profaning the gods." Crid said, pointing at the scribble on the book. Having involve a God, this must be a pivotal moment in the history of the entire game. A time of massive change that usually led to the worse.
Hearing this, Velvet turned silent for a moment. With sadness and anger apparent from his face. "I don't know how you know about the Gods, but they are something that can't be stopped. They are the reason for our fall, for my master's fall." Remembering his master, he wanted to cry, but no tears came out.
"Though I don't know exactly what the empire wanted to achieve." Velvet continued. "But it caused the dissatisfaction of a God, bringing our empire to a ruin."
"The Maligian Empire... The empire destroyed by the Keeper himself." Crid unknowingly spouted out, as he finally remembered. The empire that gave birth to one of the most unparalleled genius. How could have he forgot it, he thought.
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