A shiver ran down Marcellus's spine as he stared at the tattoo. It seemed to hold an unsettling power, making his eyelids heavy and his mind drift.
However, the peculiar sensation quickly vanished as soon as he ceased channelling his spirituality into his hands, leaving only the unsettling image echoing in his thoughts.
The image, though no longer physically manifesting, continued to haunt the recesses of his mind, an enigmatic whisper from a realm just beyond his understanding.
I can't stare at it for long; it seems to make me sleepy...
I wonder if Edwin knows anything about this.
No, I can't tell him; they don't know I'm a Hollowed.
This is the price for keeping secrets, who can I ask... Yes, Old Man Aulus should know, yes, I should confirm it tonight.
He knew he couldn't ask Edwin. The Church held secrets close, and his status as a Hollowed remained hidden. He cast his mind for someone else, someone who might know more than they should.
"Old Man Aulus," he murmured, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. "He might hold the answers I seek."
Marcellus, feeling perturbed and agitated, swiftly raised his scroll and hid his face, shielding his unease from prying eyes.
Marcellus set out for the chapel, Soon, he arrived at the chapel and entered the hold. He arrived to find Priest Corwin exiting, a scroll clutched in his hand with a portrait on it.
"Take a look at this internal warrant of arrest. A very cruel and vicious Aspirant has supposedly entered Mythralis." Dressed in his blue storm robes, the one-eyed Corwin swept his gaze over and handed the piece of paper in passing.
Marcellus received it and the first thing that entered his vision was a bad portrait sketch.
The sketch portrayed a young man with a round, amiable face. His long, hair cascaded gracefully, framing chiselled features. Piercing eyes seemed to penetrate the observer's soul. He appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen years old, roughly the same age as Marcellus.
"Severin, a suspected Aspirant. The initial estimate is that he's at least a Sequence 7 Cipherist and we are not eliminating the possibility that The Independent Order of Odd Fellows is behind it. He is a notorious pirate the like of Charles Vane… According to witness testimony, he came to Mythralis after leaving New Providence Harbor. His current whereabouts are unknown…"
Marcellus's mind raced. New Providence... Cipherist... Aspirant... Is it a crime committed by an Aspirant? Marcellus found himself deep in thought as he recalled a conversation he had with Finn.
Now, he had become rather casual about the idea of becoming an Aspirant.
After all, he had been nurtured for it when he was younger, even though he had run away from that path.
Even Captain Crowe had offered him a similar opportunity, as had Finn and even Priest Corwin and Old Man Aulus...
As he pondered this, another issue struck him.
It was common for young people in his situation to be trained by their local priestess/priest, especially for those without both parents under the Church of Combat. It would have been odd if they hadn't offered to train him.
However, since the dream-like ritual, everyone seemed to be offering him a chance to become an Aspirant.
"Do you want me to investigate?" he asked Corwin, his voice betraying his inner turmoil.
Corwin shook his head. "In a regular situation, I would say you should, but due to the abilities of a Cipherist, it would be detrimental for you to do so, just keep an eye out" Corwin's calm blue eyes held a steady gaze as he delivered his advice with a faint smile.
Marcellus nodded, his disappointment masking a flicker of relief. He didn't want to be drawn into this web of intrigue, not at all.
How uninteresting. Cipherist… hopefully I never meet this character… Marcellus prayed.
He barely missed the horror that was the dream-like ritual or Fontenot diary he was not looking to get into more mysteries.
"What is a Cipherist?" he asked, trying to redirect the conversation. "And what is the Independent Order of Odd Fellows?"
Marcellus was unfamiliar with what ciphering meant it sounded closer to High Valar in etymology.
Corwin thought for a few seconds and said, "Coincidentally, it's about time for you to learn the relevant information regarding Aspirants and the mysterious organizations. You shouldn't be ordered by Edwin to keep reading the historical documents all the time."
Marcellus's heart hammered in his chest. This was the knowledge he craved, perhaps the key to unlocking the mysteries that surrounded him.
"Alright."
…
With a document signed by Corwin, Marcellus went underground and turned into the armoury.
Ralf, the rotund Knight, greeted him with a nod.
"Father Corwin is right. It's time you understand the different Aspirant and the various secret organizations." Dressed in a blue classic storm robe, Ralf read the note without finding it surprising. Instead, he supported the captain's decision.
"Sir. Ralf, I'll be troubling you to retrieve the corresponding information from the Armoury"
The armoury, a repository more for history than warfare, was lined with tomes heavy with scrolls of archaeological and historical significance, safe travel routes and maps.
Among these were scattered a sparse collection of scrolls concerning the Aspirant and various organizations. However, these documents offered little more than rudimentary insights like the journal about the water god style Ediwn borrowed to Marcellus, skimming only the surface of the deep and shadowed waters they pertained to.
Interspersed with these pages of the past were the priest's contributions to the armoury's eclectic collection. Here lay his self-crafted weapons. Bullets, meticulously made, each one a silent promise of defence against the darkness. And then there were the grimoires, their covers worn and pages yellowed with age, each one seized from deviated Aspirants. These books, with their forbidden knowledge and secrets, lay dormant.
Ralf, with deliberate motions, stroked his moustache, punctuating the moment with a thoughtful smack of his lips. He then exited the armoury, the signed documents securely in his grasp. In his absence, Marcellus assumed the role of guardian, his vigilant eyes surveying the hold.
Approximately ten minutes elapsed before the rotund Knight re-emerged, burdened with a stack of documents. Their sheer volume spoke to the gravity and depth of the information they contained.
"As usual, these can only be perused within these walls. They are not to be taken outside," Ralf cautioned, his voice resonating with the strict protocol of their order as he deposited the hefty pile onto the desk.
"Alright," Marcellus responded, his nod embodying both understanding and resolve. He reached out, his hands deftly flipping through the pages. His eyes moved swiftly, yet attentively, as he conducted a preliminary scan of the documents, gleaning the essence of the information layered within, preparing to delve into the depths of their secrets.