Chapitre 6: Chapter 6: Vas'Anellir
Monochrome. Every shade was of grey.
Jorael was caught in the clutches of an unyielding slave dealer.
An odd incident transpired, freezing everything in its tracks, except for the young boy.
"What...what's happening?!" Jorael stuttered, straining to open his left eye, radiating with a golden luminescence.
As it finally gave way, a piercing headache assaulted him.
"AAAHHHHHH!" the boy roared, wrenching free from Frederic's grip and scrambling to his feet.
Intriguingly, time remained frozen. He strained to seize the slave dealer's sword, but his agony nearly crippled him, almost stopping him from reaching it.
Tears streaming down his face, fighting through the torment, he eventually seized the sword and aimed it at the slave dealer's throat.
His headache reached a crescendo and he was forced to shut his gleaming left eye.
Time kickstarted again, painting the world with its myriad colors.
"W-what?!" exclaimed the man, astounded to find the boy standing over him, brandishing his own sword at his neck.
Catching his breath, Jorael was grateful that the agonizing headache had receded. Realizing that everything had returned to its usual state, he began to feel the weight of the sword he was holding, a weight too great for a child to bear.
The strain was taking its toll on Jorael. The sword began slipping from his small hands, hurtling straight towards the man's throat.
The dealer didn't even have a chance to scream as his throat was slashed, blood gushing out. He began choking on his own life force.
"What...what have I done?!" cried Jorael, in utter disbelief at having taken a life for the first time.
"No...it's...it's okay...they deserved it...I...I have to run...as Mother instructed..." he tried to console himself, a survival instinct kicking in.
He cast one last tearful look at the place that had been his home for the past five years, and bolted.
Minutes that felt like an eternity passed as he ran, tears cascading from his eyes.
An explosion sounded behind him, signaling the collapse of the illusion spell his mother had cast.
With the magic having run its course, he was visible once again. He then remembered his mother's words, "As long as I provide magic power..."
He halted in his tracks, the horrifying realization dawning on him that his mother, Joanna, like his father, Roland, was no more.
"Why...why is this happening to me?!
I lost my family when I died...
I was reborn only to lose another family...
WHY MUST I ENDURE THIS?!"
His cries resonated throughout the forest, attracting attention from its less friendly inhabitants.
With a feeling of dread, he heard growls approaching his location.
"I...I need to keep running...
I made a promise to Mother..."
He set off once again, pushing himself harder than ever before as a pack of savage Wargs gave chase.
"I won't die...I won't die...I won't die..." he repeated in his head, evading the magical beasts hot on his trail.
His flight continued until dawn. Just when he thought he was safe, a momentary distraction as he glanced back resulted in him tumbling down a deep pit.
"W-woahhh!" was his last shout before everything faded to black.
...
"Ugh...where am I?... How long was I out?..." Jorael muttered, rousing from his unconscious state after what seemed like hours.
He surveyed his surroundings, but could make out little in the engulfing darkness. He could feel cold stone under him.
"Is this a cave or man-made?
It's too smooth and flat to be natural..." he remarked, feeling the ground.
"I can't climb back...the pit is too deep...
I should follow this passage and see where it leads..." decided Jorael, pushing himself up to his feet.
As he slowly made his way forward, he became more familiar with the dark environment.
"No...this must be man-made. It's too well-structured...it feels off..."
He eventually came upon a grand door adorned with silver.
"A door this ornate in a place like this?!" he exclaimed, taken aback.
"Let's see if it's unlocked and what lies beyond..."
With considerable effort, Jorael managed to push the door open, it's rusty hinges protesting with a loud creak that echoed in the expansive room that he could barely make out.
A vast room, adorned with stonework, filled with wooden shelves carrying volumes of ancient books. Stray beams of light filtered in through an opening high in the ceiling, illuminating a sea of more books on the stone floor.
He made his way to the center of the room, awed by the grandeur of the abandoned library.
In the middle, surrounded by the wooden shelves, was a stone fountain, its water eerily still.
In awe of his surroundings, Jorael couldn't help but exclaim, "This place is amazing!"
Upon his declaration, green flames erupted in the torches lining the walls, bathing the room in an unearthly green light. The once dim room was now fully lit, revealing its true magnificence.
"W-what's going on?!" Jorael shouted, startled.
A shimmering green orb materialized, floating above the surface of the fountain's water.
"Ugh...Who dares disturb my eternal slumber?" a voice emanated from the orb.
"W-what?! W-who are you?!" Jorael stuttered, petrified.
"I asked first, but it seems you are just a dimwitted child..." the voice retorted before continuing:
"I am Tor'Elkast, Elf of the House of Tor, the Elven Sage of Vas'Anellir, this ancient library you are standing in. Might I know who I am addressing?" the voice asked once more.
"I-I-I'm Jorael...I apologize for interrupting your rest...
Are you...a Sage?!?!" the boy blurted out in surprise.
"Indeed...Jorael...I believe it would be best if I took on my previous form...even if it has been centuries..." Tor'Elkast suggested, his form shifting into a humanoid silhouette.
Now in front of Jorael stood an elderly Elf, clad in an intricate tunic, with the characteristic long, pointed ears and a beard that reached his abdomen. However, he still glowed with a green light and floated above the surface of the fountain water.
"Now that you can see me, why is a child such as you here?" the Sage asked, observing Jorael more closely. Jorael remained silent.
"Hmm...You're about 5 or 6, quite robust for your age. Dark brown hair, but...those glowing purple eyes. Are you some form of Demon?" Tor'Elkast inquired, scrutinizing Jorael's physical attributes.
"H-how did you know?" the boy questioned in astonishment.
"Well...Neither Humans, Elves, nor Dwarves have eyes like yours.
You appear human, but your eyes reveal your demonic lineage. That would explain the disruption of my slumber. A Demon's presence here is a significant event," the Sage explained.
"I see..." Jorael muttered.
"May I know why a half-demon such as you would venture into this ancient library of Vas'Anellir?" the Sage requested.
Jorael hesitated, then spoke of the last few hours' events, starting from his capture to his escape and his fall into the pit.
"Hmm...Interesting...
A boy as young as you possesses quite the will to survive...Now, why did you feel the need to kill the slave dealer?" Tor'Elkast questioned.
Jorael remained silent.
"Or was it perhaps not entirely your intention?" the Sage inquired.
After a moment of hesitation, Jorael finally admitted, "Yes, you're correct. It wasn't my intention...but...I had to...for survival."
"That's it, Jorael. Survival is the utmost priority," the Sage commended, "However, remember, survival at any cost can lead to devastating consequences."
"Y-yes, Sage Tor'Elkast..." Jorael muttered.
"So everything froze, the world around you turned gray, and your left eye glowed golden?" the Sage queried, an edge of skepticism lacing his words.
"Indeed, Elder... and I was also afflicted with unbearable headaches," the youngster responded.
"I am Tor'Elkast...
It might just be a wild guess, lad, but there's something about you that seems peculiar.
You mentioned that you've only started to awaken and use Magic in the past two years, but that you're able to use two different enchantment formulas.
I've never heard of such a phenomenon, not even the most potent wizards I know have manifested such abilities at such a young age.
You are unusually well-informed and composed. You seem older than your years in certain ways.
Which brings me to my question. Could you, by any chance, be a Traveler?" the Sage inquired.
"A Tr-traveler?!" Jorael replied, sounding somewhat naive.
"Yes, a Traveler amongst Worlds," Tor'Elkast confirmed.
"Damn! He's onto me!
He truly has the wisdom of a Sage.
I have nothing to hide anymore, I should just come clean..." contemplated the youngster before nodding and saying,
"Yes, I am."
...
Quite a bit of time passed as Jorael spilled the truth of his two existences to the Sage.
"What you've shared with me, lad, is a distressing tale. While I may not fully grasp the knowledge of your previous world, I can clearly see the depth of your suffering and sadness.
If you're in search of a haven, you're welcome to rest here.
As for me, meeting a Traveler after 250 years is a thrilling, albeit unexpected, awakening," the Sage admitted.
"So, Elder, are you implying that this Traveler phenomenon is what causes my left eye to glow gold?"
"I am Tor'Elkast...
Yes, while I've never met a Traveler other than you, the myths and legends suggest that Travelers are blessed with unique abilities by the Gods or Goddesses that select them.
Given your description of time stopping, I'd venture to say that you might have been chosen by the Goddess of Time, Gaia."
"Hold on, wh-what?... Gaia?!...
But isn't Kalipso the Goddess of Time?! Isn't she the deity that my Father, a Human, worshipped..."
"I haven't heard that Deity's name in ages, but my statement still stands.
The Goddess of Time is Gaia, and she is worshipped by the Humans.
As for why your father was praying to a Fallen Goddess, that is beyond my comprehension..."
"A Fallen Goddess?!
But my Father insisted that in the Human Empire, there are temples and shrines dedicated to Kalipso..."
"I cannot tell you why, lad, but it seems that something has shifted in the Human Empire over the past centuries while I was secluded within the walls of Vas'Anellir.
What Magic formula did your father teach you?" the Sage asked with curiosity.
Upon which, Jorael showed the elf the Magic formula and enchantment he had learned from Roland.
"Youngster... That's the ancient formula Humans crafted in Gaia's name...
The formula remains unchanged, but the deity they serve has been replaced?
This is indeed strange..." Tor'Elkast mused, his thoughts disrupted by Jorael's question:
"Elder, why would the Goddess Gaia choose me?!"
"I am Tor'Elkast...
That is a mystery that no living creature in this world can fathom...
The Goddess must have her reasons, choosing you and bestowing her power upon you..." the Sage replied cryptically.
As time wore on, Jorael's stomach began to growl.
"Ah... Eating... It's one of the things I miss most..." Tor'Elkast remarked wistfully, then continued,
"You're welcome to stay here as I've mentioned, but as I exist in a spirit form and don't need food, there is none to be found here. You will need to fend for yourself in that regard."
"That shouldn't be an issue. My Father taught me how to hunt... at least, I hope he did..." replied Jorael, his expression cloudy.
Then, Jorael knelt before the Sage, his face serious as he implored:
"Elder, I've made my decision... I implore you, teach me the ways of a Sage!"
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone