Brandus's sleep-deprived eyes shot open as he lay on the chilly slab of stone.
Adjusting his blurred vision, he spotted Gary kneeling in front of him, forcefully shaking his frame.
Flashing a bright smile, Gary pushed himself up off of his knees and waited for Brandus to get up.
Brandus did not keep him waiting long, and within ten seconds he was standing alert. It was a natural reaction for a seasoned adventurer, resembling a veteran soldier who woke up from the smallest sound of battle.
Rolling his aching shoulder, Brandus ignored Gary and began marching over to take his shift. He was well aware that was the only reason Gary would approach him of his own volition.
But as he passed by Gary's figure, he couldn't help but pause and glance behind his shoulder, landing his sight on a rather quiet Gary.
'Oh-- come on,' Gary internally rolled his eyes as he acted like nothing was amiss, 'Just ignore little ol' me. Please, walk your serious ass away and let me live in peace .'
But leave, he did not.
Brandus always trusted his gut. And right now, it was whispering to him that something was off. The initial murmur only grew louder the longer Gary maintained his silent attitude.
His mouth frowned irritably, like a parent who had just caught a whiff of dishonesty in their child.
Brandus's eyes scouted out Gary's body language with scrutiny, before opening his mouth to ask, "... Find anything?"
"I found plenty, actually," Gary dismissively stated, "But I'm pretty sure the section is farther in. My guess would be you have some reading to do before finding the damn thing." He added, putting emphasis on the word 'damn'.
"Hmph, is that so?"
"Yep..."
"That is... good." Resuming his stride forward, Brandus went back to indifferently ignoring Gary and took a seat in front of the opened Compendium, attempting to read despite the remnant feeling of unease. The awkward way Gary answered... didn't feel natural.
As much as he felt something was off, Brandus failed to discern any lie in his words. After ten years, he had grown confident at spotting bullshit: Gary's bullshit, to be specific. As much faith as he had in his instincts, he still placed more trust in what he could see and hear.
'Is paranoia getting the better of me?' he wondered, rubbing the back of his neck in thought.
'Eh-- forget it.' He excused any unnecessary thoughts, letting his mind return to the Compendium. Between worrying over Gary or searching for their one saving grace, he would choose the latter.
If he questioned every action of that scum, then he would never have a moment of peace.
Time began to pass as Brandus was absorbed into the book, his mind entering a state of focus as he searched for his objective within the ancient text. In the ruinous hall, his shadow flickered back and forth in tandem with the dim light of a small lantern that sat beside him.
The eerie silence was broken periodically by the sound of pages being flipped as he sought through them.
As he reached his hand over to change the sheet once more, his fingers felt a strange indent as he touched the side of the stacked pages.
'Hmm?' distracted by the sensation, Brandus was pulled out of his state of focus and looked inquiringly over to the side.
This normally wouldn't have caught his attention if it was some other book, but after sitting down with it for almost two hours, he had a grasp over how the Compendium felt on his skin.
Despite the sheer number of pages, each one was perfectly aligned with the other. When opened, the sheets formed a flawless slope devoid of a single imperfection. Or at least, they used to.
Peering over the side, his eyes failed to notice any indent or blemish, but that wasn't enough for him to ignore it.
Rubbing the tip of his index finger across the pages, he searched for what his sharp eyes had been unable to notice.
His thoroughness was rewarded shortly after, and he experienced the very same indent as before.
Locating the exact position, he hefted the stack of pages with a bit of difficulty and flipped them to the side, finding the piece of paper that was at fault.
His curious eyes transitioned into a look of confusion as he analyzed the page. It contained a method of an improved magic core and was-- quite frankly --normal. It matched the others in both content and style, down to the slight flaxen discoloration that the passage of time had gifted upon its surface.
His brows knit up, beginning to cast doubt on his worries. Was it just a fluke? Why was he even bothered by it in the first place?
Still not convinced, he swiftly cast the page over in desperation, intent on checking every inch of it.
It was then, he saw.
'... Holy fuck.'
His eyes bulged out from utter shock, reminiscent of the first time his father brought him along to a seedy establishment.
"I-I... What?!?" The stoic adventurer stuttered, incredulous at his find. 'Did the Goddess herself come down and bless me?'
A slight trace of a smile began to form across his somber face at such a thought.
"Ha-- Hahaha!!!" For the first time in years, he laughed. A true, heartfelt laugh. Even the sinister darkness that pervaded the palace walls could not extinguish his mirth. And now, neither would the demons.
Turning away from the book, He cried out, "Everyone! Get your asses up! We got some work to do!"
His voice echoed throughout the dreary hall as he slapped his palm against the page in glee.
But his cheer was cut short the moment his hand landed against the page, Feeling the paper give way under the strong force.
The smile froze in place the moment he shifted his gaze downward, as he saw the page had shifted outward, no longer connected to the spine.
Then, he noticed the smooth edge that had been disconnected. One so perfect that it could only have been made with the precision and sharpness of a blade.
Brandus's mind underwent another wave of shock at the site, unsure of what could have caused this. What it could possibly mean. It did not take long for his somber expression to return as he considered the various possibilities.
Ruminating over the issue, his gut spoke to him once more, guiding his suspicion toward a certain unsavory individual.
It was then, he understood.
Why did that conversation feel wrong? Why did his earlier instinct warn him?
Now, he knew.
He clenched his reddened fists together with rage, to the point the veins began to dangerously bulge out. His face scrunched up as he attempted to calm the boiling heat rising inside of him, but he failed to contain his angered voice that leaked out in a deep growl.
"Gary, you fucking bastard!"