After recovering from the challenges faced during the "exorcism", Godrick resumed his duties by remaining with the young couple for two more days. He was to ensure Alana's recovery by providing medical treatment and help of any kind; she in turn became more receptive to him once back in the real world and allowed him to pamper her whims. Her husband Lenny as she called him, had somehow become encumbered by his work during those days. The man was busy as could be despite the season's harvest being over, during this time of boredom for her, Godrick would converse with her on a daily bases; learning of her heritage and homeland.
She was of Northend descent. A viciously spiteful people of savagery according to the imperium's records as well as a thriving society of settlements ruled by clans and chiefs. And through her storytelling, she also learned of his close ties to her homeland through his own telling of ancestry.
Refugees from the fallen kingdom of Cemeria, prior rulers of the northern land. These wandering nomads had then become settlers of the most southern of the northern borders. It was, no wonder, how his people had become slaves to the empire. But despite both seeming to enjoy each other's company, their personalities would set off fires when clashing. Godrick's and her conflicting viewpoints abound for verbal warfare.
And so, once he had deemed her in good health he set back out to his church almost immediately, tired of her belligerence. During his departure, he could not help but throw a look of contempt toward Mr. Price. The man had complained about his wife's physical appearance despite her recent trauma --incessantly if he might add.
An egotistical person like that, Godrick thought.
Was sure to make someone like the red and fiery, sailor-mouthed Alana unhappy; or at the very least follow through for divorce. Regardless, the young couple was no longer his problem, he was to report on the exorcism performed though that could wait. Once he had prepared to face the worst, Godrick smiled to himself. Considering recent events, 'that' worst seemed almost inconsequential by itself, a new journey called for him since he learned about mana a week ago.
And after reporting, his life would change.
The sudden muse of the elemental had expanded him in ways he could not proclaim to the masses currently. Hadrian's churches had branches across the empire known as temples, Churches being interchangeable, when referring to the community and the body of the faithful. Godrick's church was no exception to these branches, its name "The Temple of the Shadow in His Light". Its location could be found a couple of days' journey south of Leston, next to the capital of the Aquila. Though he had been west of the capital, taking a few extra days to wrangle his thoughts and emotions -- seemed more important before a writ for return would declare itself.
Once on the road, he spent his time reflecting on his life, many a truth he had only dared speculate within his mind was answered by the Elemental. Reshaping the reality in which his mind understood the world. This newfound understanding that had shattered previous misconceptions also traveled in the physical. His body strengthened itself, not with the Divine power he had once praised as almighty. But with the essences of reality, he could identify ever so minute in its qualities.
All of this, put into question his current path. Requiring further dedicated research from him, he dove into his notebook with a mad passion, in it, he began writing the most recent knowledge that had come to his possession. 'Mana' as he had discovered recently from the wisdom shared of his new "friend" the Lord of the 1,117th Flame of the Primals.
It was the energy source for all the magic of the world. It was a foundation of the known Cosmos, a term describing the amalgamation of everything. All beings and objects including worlds, realms, and space were of the cosmic which was of mana. From the laws that governed all existence such as time and space; to the celestials and mortals. Even the most minute of particles such as those of Mana. Encompassed all space, and all points in time. Even the gods, who were no longer of the material, apart from even the cosmic were not exempt from these laws.
It truly was a Foundation for all, Mana.
This realization struck him with urgency, unlike any other, it took a proper hold of him. He would need time to process everything that had and would happen. Nothing good would come out of his actions no matter the good they did, and so he wrote. He scribbled down notes on all miracles he had learned and wrote essays of philosophy upon his new understanding of the Cosmos. He created structured graphs of systems for the grading of degrees and the potency of magic. Organizing and solidifying the knowledge by adding his own understanding.
He wrote down the principles of mana, the ones that his human mind allowed comprehension. Classifying classifications upon classification, and once finished. Three days and three nights had passed. Yet his task was not done. He poured through his writings unsatisfied with his work. Page after page became unbounded, remaking the book as a whole. After another three days and three nights, he had finished once more.
The Tome in front of him filled him with pride. Unseen fibers disconnecting from him, unfelt and unseen. A grin flashed throughout the world with this action once more, also unseen.
Before, the book could only be referred to as a notebook with its small cover, and redundant accountancy. It was strict in its journal-like structure, 'It' was no more. Now it lay in front of him as a Tome; within the scenery of nature that surrounded him. A sprawling forest of peach trees dominating the area. It contained 800 pages, with three-quarters of them remaining empty. The pages filled the tome as thick parchments. Bound into its orange and purple covers, the stitchings of the pages and the old cover were expertly woven in a very neat and clean fashion. The original cover centered into the middle and fitted into a larger one, due to the tomes expansion.
A rather Half-hearted attempt at one given his lacking resources. But he had made sure to gather what he could at the nearest town during his journey.
Godrick had made sure to modify the bindings of the Tome in such a fashion that he could expand upon it in the future. Once he had finished he read through his work. His nerves were calmer than ever, after his sudden urge of productivity. There was order within the tome, and that brought him a new sense of peace. It contained the records of his journeys and missions, each placed in chronological order within different sections; depending on the nature of the tasks and relevancy. of Resources discovered in his travels, he placed them, within the Compendium. A glossary and guide, both at the same time.
In it were the names of certain words he would use or the resources and materials he had encountered. Unknown words in their first encounters with the book would guide them to the compendium. Finding the answer to any doubt that he could make for himself.
Referential quotations indicated whether they were of his origins or not. Descriptions, properties, and real-world locations revealed themselves through it. These had all been his design and he was enamored with its structure. A foreboding shadow attempted to blanket his mind. He realized he had committed yet another grave offense. Systematizing, cataloging, and translating the ancient scriptures; an act completely Forbidden within the Church of Hadrian, yet he had done it.
The ecclesiarchy of the Faiths had given a strict warning on such an act. They controlled how knowledge was disseminated and taught. The Ancient Scriptures written in the hallowed language of Saloheem were not to be tampered with. They were not meant to be cataloged, or graded. But of most importance, they were not to be translated or systemized in any way that facilitated their learning.
Meant to remain unblemished by mortal hands who had not personally witnessed, the words of the gods.
In other words, only Prophets, and Royalty would ever have the divine right to write new ancient scriptures or disseminate them. Considering the rate of illiteracy in the Empire. This was not a problem normally, one would get the odd encounter with practitioners of evil magics. Attempting to pervert the holy scriptures into their own designs. But they would disappear, unremembered in the annals of history. The Officials of the Empire and Ecclesiarchy experts of subterfuge once they were found out.
By all technicality, Godrick was allowed to teach the scriptures. He was not, however.
Meant to exceed his authority by impugning the texts with his own understanding. Nor translating them from the language of the ancient scriptures called the "Saloheem".
Once more he had blasphemed, yet care he did not. Having lived half his life under the care of the church had made him question what he was doing. Stopping though, seemed an unlikely event, the Elemental had warned him that once learned this knowledge could not be unlearned. Had it been a man of less intelligence they would have despaired at this.
Godrick remained calm, however, pleased even; that so many things made sense of this world of his now. He had finally understood the reason for his struggle in learning the Saloheem. Along with the archaic forms of teachings from times when men's minds were lesser to the now.
An agenda that had spread through the indoctrinated. Forcing the masses to comply through subtle cultural propaganda. All of it led to the acceptance of the state the world was in. Peasants could not purchase books as they were not citizenry.
Teaching was delegated to nobility educating the masses through culture and faith. Priests and Priestesses underwent indoctrination from their earliest moments in the clergy. This was a necessity before they allowed them to preach and do service in the name of their Gods. These all led to an improvement in society of course. There was no such thing as civility without indoctrination, that was an ideal of the ignorant. It was not a musing but a fact of nature even. Men of the pre-history before even the gods had ascended acted animalistic in nature. At the level of tribes worshipping the monsters that feasted upon them.
Almost none held a language or tongue with which they could speak. Only through gestures or grunts, screams and shouts, cooings, sobbing, and smiles could they commune. It was not a statement but a fact that religion and society had helped enlighten a large portion of mankind. Helping them create an empire as mighty as the Aquila --spanning vast swathes of the continent of Arlan.
'But was it enough?' Godrick pondered. When he saw how the Goodrichs' witlessness had almost caused their deaths. Along with his own biased learning, there was an error in the Empire.
Far more than he had believed possible, a change was in order. Had his teachings been accurate he would not have struggled. Had his magical knowledge been higher it would have been but a snap of his fingers to resolve such an issue. Had the Goodrichs known or described the ailment proper; of such a creature and its dangers none would have mattered. For they would have been able to handle it without his intervention. Just like the teachings of Arwol the Elder, of his once hamlet; he had taught him, pure and without bias based on nature and reality, not its occluded form taught by societies.
In that moment of clarity, Godrick was liberated --mental strings of unknown fibers unraveling from his mind.
His heart had hardened, prepared for whatever would come now. Solidified in his goal that knowledge was his end, wisdom to guide, and trials to uncover.
He knew the dangers of what he had done. Instead of stress or anxiety, however. He smiled as more of these unseen fibers resembling strings broke away from him, unnoticed as was the way on these unseen tethers.
Godrick found solace in the natural beauty of the world around him. Laying his head to rest upon a tree filled with fruit. He lit a Fleurel with a match, inhaling its aromatic fragrance, further fueling his insights. The rolling hills were a marvel to him as vast meadows stretched out before him. Birds sang as they flew through the skies. The sunset leaving him breathless as he exhaled the smoke within his lungs, a sense of peace came that he had not felt in a long time.
There were no actual steps that he had crossed today. But the significance of altering one's perspective is the equivalent of a change of being. So, he took one more puff from his Fleurel, closed his eyes, and exhaled deeply. Unknowingly entering a meditative sleeping state.
The unseen energies of mana began coalescing upon the tree above him. Two of the fruits suddenly turned a brilliant gold as his meditation intensified. They snapped off the stems and fell down next to him, as he fell into a true slumber. The mana, becoming dormant, gathered into stillness.
-------------------------------------------------------
After waking from what Godrick believed was the most invigorating sleep of his life, he felt renewed. Mind, sharper still than all the days prior. The colors of the world; along with the road he traveled on were no longer lifeless, or burdensome. Seeing more shades and details than ever before, his observation surpassed himself.
Destination in sight he moved forward purposefully. 'Grimoire' completed there was no sense in dallying.
After the darkened and forbidden grammar. Godric had named the tome a Grimoire. In it, he would separate the lies from the truths, henceforth its naming. Grim of brim to signify the ill of omen, moire for the gramatis, and halved to contain the Grim. As such, it lays as, Grim-moire.
He likened the word in the tongues of the Primect, the Saloheem, and the common-speak of the imperium; Aquilan.
Due to circumstance, he was well-versed in all three of these languages; and as a scholar, he held the skill to manipulate them as he saw fit. Aquilan came to him once he had been conquered by the Aquila, his native tongue of Cemerien, suppressed in turn. Saloheem came when he sought refuge in the house of Hadrian, as a noveau it took him three days, and three nights to learn it. Primect was taught to him by the elder, before the fall of Bedouin and its surroundings.
He felt it fitting for a name of something that guaranteed him more heresy charges, to mean 'the grim container of the truths'. He patted the grimoire that lay by the side of his lap, as he grabbed a strange fruit he had eyed upon waking. It was odd that such a fruit existed at all; even more so its twin that was next to it.
As a priest, he was quite informed on all things of the empire's culture. So at the very least the local delicacies, he would recognize. It held a brilliant gold skin with some unnatural patterns, shiny in its luster, and smooth to the touch. Its texture was soft, giving an enticing premonition of the flesh waiting inside, the fruit was not one he had seen nor read anywhere else. And considering that the tree above him had been a peach tree, it gave no veracity unto itself. The belief that it could be safe, remained invalidated, aside from its delectably sweet aroma.
His nose caught the fragrance of apples, peaches, and honey from it; mixing into an ambrosia-like wine that refined itself into jelly. It remained encased within the hypnotic patterns of their skins, this by itself was enough to convince Godrick that the fruit was of a mutant strain. Whether it possessed magical qualities as so often rumored by the nobility and the Bourgeoisie, was unknown. What he did know was that the fruit itself was now calling to him.
No actual words were needed for it to communicate. For the aroma it gave off, and the swirls that appeared in symmetrical patterns did. Forming symbols of arcane meaning, and placing him in a trance that forced him to halt in his tracks.
There were no doubts left, these fruits were magical in nature. The temptation he had felt grew stronger, its hypnotic patterns enticing him to bite upon the soft flesh as he held it in his hand. He prevailed against its effects, as he was trained to.
He owed no faltering in his person.
Immediately placing it, into his bag it disappeared within its void-like dimensions. No one in the confines of the imperium had been able to detect magical fruits, as such; no laws were formed against their distribution. But all mutant fruits had become controlled resources. The nobles and merchants tried gobbling any that came up because of their possible magics.
Fruits of a magical nature were known as the 'Forbidden Fruits of Knowledge'. Whether good or bad; depended upon the species and strain. Because of such a conundrum, he would have to be one of the few to study and conduct research on them. The only other group that had conducted such a venture, was the Bourgeoisie.
Since Godrick would never have access to that knowledge, he would research them himself. All in order to make the second fruit's consumption more tolerable, its immutable changes that could be bestowed upon consumption, be damned. Any who ate one was guaranteed to gain both wisdom and insanity; getting rid of the insanity, Godrick would happily share the knowledge hidden within them. For if he was to lose the opportunity to partake of their wisdom.
The loss of his divine power would mean the end of him. He would remain pathless after he was severed, unable to fend for himself in this world where men could split mountains while leading nations.
His uncertainty caused, his passions to flare disabling his ability to mourn for future loss. He needed to prepare for what was to come since the road ahead would be riddled with tribulations to come. But he was determined to find a new Path with the fruit's wisdom and shape his destiny according to his desires and no one else's.
Disregarding his earlier unease about possible madness, he took out one of the Fruit, biting into its flesh.
The milky white and clear flesh of the fruit was exposed. Its juices which had nearly fallen to the ground began floating towards his mouth.
An ecstasy he had never experienced filled his mind. There were simply no words to describe it aside from pure bliss.
It was as if he was feeling all the pleasures denied to himself in the past. Not even his one fancy could compare despite his maddening affection for her. When a priestess of Cynthia had promised a sinless escapade. Lustfully exploring each other's bodies as a primal, and carnal hunger drove them to join together.
With this pleasure came a knowledge unhinged. Godrick consumed the fruit with glee. His eyes showed madness as he sucked upon the juices that lingered upon his fingers.
Wisdom wrapped around him and with it also came the darkness of the Unhinged. He held his will strong, forcing his mind not to crumble. The dark understanding of the world was a blow to the ego he had nourished. He sat down no longer able to stand, attempting to find that meditative state he had entered before sleep.
All manner of intrusions and knowledge pervaded his mind. The faster the connections were made in his mind, the faster the intrusions would settle.
After what felt like a day and night, where he had to force himself to meditate and settle his wounded thoughts. Godrick's mind was sparking visibly, his thoughts had become clearer faster, and more complex once again. The only time he had felt this was with the enlightenment the elemental had gifted.
The shades he could almost make of colors presented themselves to him. Sounds not given upon a frequency of humanity could be heard. He fell further into the night and finally touched upon the crux of his whole problem.
The concept of mana comprising everything in creation had completely shattered his understanding of the world and the divine.
To think, the blasphemy. If even the gods themselves were manifestations of this all-encompassing force.
If this were true, then were the gods his agency, or was he responsible for that himself?
'Mana was everywhere, and all was mana.'
'The Gods are everywhere, and all are the Gods.'
The latter statement was the one he had been led to believe throughout the past decade. He had only changed one word but its significance shook him all the more.
There was a difference in the meanings. But it was clear, the churches had succeeded in their endeavors. They had rewritten history through the ancient scriptures according to their benefits, not the Gods.
Despite the darkness of this knowledge, Godrick could not contain his excitement. He would delve into the occult magics, learning how to wield it in his Path and improve the world through the unveiling of truth to the masses.
He would do, and be better than the men who had corrupted the world with their lust for power.
As he walked, his thoughts turned to the Paths and he wrote,
There was no doubt that they would strip him of his Path as a priest. So he would set his own Path, recreating others through imitation and procedure. Modifying it with the knowledge that he would gather.
His temple began appearing in his sight, there was no time left to contemplate the mystical paradigms of the Paths.
Wary with anticipation Godrick strode past the temple's Gate and its doors. The road to wisdom was his to take, and he was determined to see where it would lead him.