Alastor gripped the opened book, his pupils swirling with thoughts unknown as he stared deep into the Compendium.
A calloused finger caressed the inside of the book's spine, where the tiniest sliver of paper could be felt; remnant proof of pages cut and stolen from its contents.
He pulled his hand from it and descended once more into the realm of his own mind, ignoring the worried cries of the castle as he considered what must be done.
The calls from the castle's spirit... from Dagora, slowly died out as its master called for silence, yet Dagora kept its presence known as it lurked within... like a concerned pet that stuck to its owner's feet.
Dagora's worries only grew as the minutes passed and the frown of the master became more distinct. Shifting its body and casting unsure gazes from below as it considered what might be done.
Oh, how Dagora wanted nothing more than to kneel before him. To declare no thief would dare enter these walls again for so long it existed. To swear that it would never leave his service.
Yet, the order of silence was not one to be disobeyed.
Accursed silence.
For centuries it had borne the stillness. Its spell only broken by the sound of its own walls and spires crumbling under the weight of passing ages. Helpless to move, unable to speak, and forced to watch its body grow feeble... not from battle or conquest, but from the march of time as the world forgot its presence.
And despite all of the years it cried and begged for the mercy of death, none of it could match the torture these scant few minutes inflicted upon it.
But even then, Dagora waited. For this time... its silence had a reason, and its patience would be rewarded.
No-- the reward had already been given, it realized as Dagora gazed at the majestic being that had blessed him once more with his great presence.
The restless movements and racing thoughts were slowly expunged, replaced by a calming stillness as the entire castle seemed to take in a deep breath.
It could wait.
After all, what was time to a creature like itself?
What truly mattered was the sense of newfound purpose that it had once thought forever lost.
The passage of time began once more as Dagora shut its imaginary eyes, settling in as he awaited his silent King.
And wait it did.
It seemed that another millennium would pass Dagora by before its ears were perked by the muffled thump of a closed book, followed by the clicking of the tongue.
"Oh, Dagora. What a fine mess we have found ourselves in."
Mess?
A wind began to churn as all manner of dust and rubble were immediately swept away from Alastor's feet, revealing a broken -- yet perfectly spotless -- gray stone floor beneath.
"Heh-- no, not quite that. I fear that the true problem will be a bit harder to clean up." An expression of slight amusement appeared on his face, before disappearing just as fast as it had come.
"Now tell me, this book: how did that thief get it? To get through the safeguards with that level of skill... it shouldn't be possible."
Problem?
Is it the book?
Dagora froze as it contemplated the question, recalling the most recent invaders. A hurried mix of words and images began to fly out -- along with a slew of apologies and begs for eternal forgiveness -- as Alastor absorbed the information.
"Ah... you removed the enchantments?"
Dagora couldn't keep the intangible tears from forming as its master gave a look of admonishment.
Dagora wanted to keep them. It really did. But his reserves were low, and they took so much energy. The walls needed reinforcing, and the foundations constantly loosening. It was either cutting the flow or burning its core for fuel.
Yet, Dagora never voiced these thoughts.
It couldn't make excuses. Dagora knew the weird book was important. It should have protected it better. It was sure that it could have diverted mana from some other enchantment, all it had to do was. Was... well, what mattered was Dagora was sure it could have found a way.
"Pay my words no heed, the fault is not yours." The admonishing look turned to an expression of acceptance as Alastor saw the quivering Dagora.
"Looking back, perhaps I did go a little overboard. The idea of balancing the energy requirements was never a concern back then. It is no surprise that your reserves couldn't handle it without resources."
Dagora nearly broke down with relief as he received his majesty's undeserving forgiveness, though a portion of guilt still remained.
"Still," Alastor continued. "Couldn't you have left just one? It might have saved us some trouble."
Dagora's mind seemed to fry with what felt like a revelation, freezing for a moment as it began to curse its stupid, stupid self.
A tremor began to shake the castle as Dagora's eyes welled once more with tears, heralding another descent of sorrowful groveling and begging for suitable punishment.
It was only after much consoling and multiple assurances on Alastor's part that Dagora managed to calm its self-hatred.
"What is done, is done." its master soothed, encouraging Dagora who still hid himself from the shame. "What matters is that I am back. To complain after being given a second chance is nothing short of incompetence. It shouldn't be a surprise that there will be issues."
Words so noble, only a King could utter, entered Dagora's ears as he bounced his head in agreement.
It was true.
After all, what could go wrong? His Highness was back!
"Your trust is as refreshing as it is undeserved, but I will gladly take it in this hour of unease." Alastor smiled. "Let us make sure it is not misplaced. Much is needed to be done, and yet only two of us remain."
But in the midst of his growing determination, Alastor couldn't help but let out a small sigh.
"... Indeed, only two of us. Karag, Astolos, Effigia..."
"Why is it that I can feel your presence still, yet not a single one of your faces can be seen?"
A glimmer of his violet eyes seemed to pierce through the layers of earth and stone as he longingly followed the thin translucent strings that stretched out before him, connecting to his wayward followers.
Dagora hesitated at the question posed, wondering over the whereabouts of the others. However, it didn't put much thought into the issue. It wasn't like Dagora was worried; it was sure they would all come running back once they knew.
If anything, Dagora felt terrible for those poor, pitiful demons. Forced to run about like vagrants, instead of being able to witness the return of his Majesty?
What a horrible fate that was.
To not serve His Majesty was the greatest punishment one could be dealt. Only under his wing could they exist with purpose.
That was not a belief, but a fact to it.
Maybe his master felt its confidence in them, because the sullen Demon once more bore the look of hardened grit.
"Hmph, we shall assume that they have their reasons. I struggle to believe they have truly abandoned me. As for us, we handle the present. There is much to learn about the current era if we wish to rise once more. I doubt those vagrant beasts outside will prove a valuable source of intelligence, but it will be a start. As for the rest--"
Alastor marched towards his lifted throne with a determined step, eyeing the mark of a blade in his sundered seat before placing himself once more at his rightful place.
"-- We will have our explanations in due time. Now is the time for preparation, and I know just where to begin."
[End of Volume One: Awakened Giant]