Garrick awoke amidst the chaos of shattered cogs and gears in the device room, his head throbbing with a relentless headache as if his skull might crack under the pressure. A series of scattered memories suddenly flood his mind, remembered as if once long forgotten as they play over in his mind. One memory stands out: a massive crater gouging into the planet of Prime, spanning its ancient history and, at its heart, the first primordial artefact.
Like every time before, Garrick stands with difficulty, a burden upon his being. The pain is relentless, but he is also relentless in pushing through it all. His hand trembles and his body feels heavy as it is slow to respond to his command. However, a hand comes into view to offer assistance, a hand old and frail, the skin nearly transparent. Grasping it, Garrick's gaze climbs to meet its owner – Jarathus, the embodiment of vile malevolence. Garrick rejects the offer with a disgusted swipe, denying the existence of the man who sent him spiralling into this abyss.
"Rather rude, Garrick. I thought you'd be happy to see me; it's been some time," Jarathus stands with a smugness, an aura of evil that bubbles under the surface under the guise of hallucination.
"Just stay gone. I don't want you here," Garrick coldly replies as he walks past Jarathus towards the door.
"You feign stability. You cannot lie to me. You tremble with fear under that mask of lies."
"Stability? You're the one who lost it when you saw Lillian and Araval," Garrick scoffs as he continues.
"...Yes. It would seem even the hundreds of years that passed weren't enough for me to 'get over it'. The treatment I received from the magic academy must've cut deeper than I realised, and my actions directly responded to my feelings. It shocked me."
"Good chat, now fuck off."
"When will you realise you can't be rid of me? I am beginning to wonder if you don't know If I'm real or not."
Garrick ignores Jarathus and exits the device room, entering the reading area of the Sanctum, where Jarathus has teleported, waiting for him.
"It seems you have grown bold... and idiotic in my short absence. I'll have to make a greater effort to be a more permanent part of your life."
"I'll be rid of you. Someday, I'll make it happen, I promise you, you old bastard."
"Such fire. I hadn't seen that from you since I made you into the Runecarved. I was worried you would wallow in your depression until you gave up and died like a peasant in the gutter."
Hearing Jarathus say 'Runecarved' makes Garrick feel sick and sends a chill down his spine as he tries to maintain his composure.
"... Fuck off."
"The Elves have taught you bad manners. Understand, I will only accept so much verbal abuse before I must retaliate."
"Retaliate? Are you gonna show up more? You're a fucking ghost, and I don't care about whatever bullshit you wanna spout."
Garrick turns to face Jarathus, but he has disappeared.
**Elsewhere at the Volmyr Library**
Lillian and Araval sit at a table with stacks of books stacked high, towering over them, making the enormous open space of the library feel claustrophobic. The library is remarkable as marble flooring coats the ground, and large stone pillars line the walls with gaps between them that contain mosaic windows that stream in light from the outside. The library is one large room with three floors separated by ornate wooden stairs carved beautifully with intricate designs and animals that attach to the pillars and lead up to the next floor, where a walkway roughly twenty feet wide circles the library's perimeter. Every bookcase is filled with books of varying subjects and information, not just magical but mundane too, such as blacksmithing, agriculture and even the gods themselves, all organised and labelled accordingly for easy finding, which is much needed in this paper mansion maze. The final touch on this magnificent building is the ceiling that holds a beautiful glass dome that allows the light to fill the library quickly and eliminates the need for torches or magic until the night arrives.
Lillian and Araval skim the books impatiently as if looking for something specific. Lillian finishes a book and places it on the side of the table among a stack of finished books.
"I'm struggling to find anything on Odexus. How about you, Araval? Find anything regarding Hjalthor?"
"Your task is far more complex to find answers than mine. I have found some information regarding Hjalthor. It's not much, but it should be enough. Two clans called the Nogarok and Svenzungaal have been fighting for dominance and, based on these texts, have been for quite some time."
"Decades?"
"Centuries."
"You'd think a side would've given up by now and accepted defeat."
"Well, it turns out they are, in a sense, anyway. A tournament is being held in two months, where each clan selects their champion to fight on the clan's behalf for the prize of control of the Island and possession of the Hjarvartin crown. It's locked away, and whoever wears the crown controls the Island."
"The primordial artefact?"
"I assume so. We saw a box when using the device, and this crown is under lock and key, which means the only way to find out for sure is to be there when the winner is announced and it's opened."
"Not good enough. Search for a way to retrieve the artefact sooner."
"It'll be next to impossible for the party, even with Vyn's help."
"Think, Araval, If the only way to retrieve the artefact is when the box is opened, then Xzeralaki will be there, skulking like the vermin she is, waiting to pounce, and that is far more dangerous than dealing with an island of savages-"
Lillian and Araval's conversation is halted in its tracks by the sudden presence of Vyn sitting at the table with them, adorning an emotionless face, except for a slight twitch in one of his eyes. They sit for a few seconds, trying to comprehend when Vyn arrived and why his happy-go-lucky demeanour has shifted so much.
"You withheld valuable information from me. I trusted you both, yet you kept me at arm's length, which was understandable; it has caused damage that you could not conceive." Vyn speaks with a slight tinge of anger but holds his stoic demeanour as he looks onwards, not looking at Lillian or Araval, while they stammer, unable to formulate a response. "Silence is golden because right now, you need to listen and nothing more. My device for locating the artefacts has been broken, and its repair is paramount, so I won't be joining the party to Hjalthor."
The sudden development is enough to break the Teldalors free from their silence.
"Broken?! How?!" Lillian blurts out, then bites her lip to quell herself from speaking as her hand shakes.
"The device's gem was supercharged and exploded. Tell me about the man with runes."
Lillian and Araval look at each other, pausing and gulping before Araval speaks.
"The one with the runes is Garrick. Jarathus experimented on him by carving those runes into his body." Araval leans in close to allow no one but Lillian and Vyn to hear his words. "He can use Internal Utilization."
"Jarathus... huh. That was your interest in him at the academy, and to think a human not only lived this long but also managed to achieve something mages of all kinds have been trying to do for millennia. Garrick has the potential to become the greatest mage that ever existed. That must not be squandered, for he may be the best way to eliminate Xzeralaki. What else do you know?"
"Odexus the Runelord is supposedly involved in making him the Runecarved, but we don't know enough about that god to make an educated guess. Despite being an integral part of magic as we know it, it's a secretive god." Lillian chimes in sheepishly.
"In two months, a tournament is being held in Hjalthor; we believe that may be when the artefact is obtainable, but I am looking for alternatives as that is the greatest chance of running into Xzeralaki, which we'd like to avoid." Araval voices.
"No. Don't avoid Xzeralaki. She will be challenged. She needs to feel her unshakable foundation crack and buckle under the power of what we have on our side." Vyn speaks with vigour as his demeanour is more rigid now. "Say your goodbyes. The party will leave tomorrow for the Volmyr docks and then Hjalthor." Vyn walks away, not even waiting for a response, for his word is final.
"Do they really not know what he is?" Vyn thinks to himself.
End chapter.