On August 1st, 1886 of the Black Iron age, Elyon had the rare luxury of waking up naturally on a workday. Captain Kappa had approved a day's leave, and due to his injured left hand, Elyon didn't need to cook for his two sisters.
Why on earth did this planet have traditional Chinese characters, and what was their connection to the strange ritual he had seen? Elyon couldn't find any related information in his fragmented memories. Recalling that his university had departments for History and Archaeology, and that he had even taken elective courses there, he decided to seek answers.
Heading downstairs, he found a note from his sisters on the table, saying breakfast had been left in the cupboard for him. Elyon pulled out a loaf of white bread and smeared it with jam, making a quick meal of it.
After a half-hour ride on the public coach, Elyon arrived at the National University of Aegisburg. Knowing it was customary in Brugel to not arrive empty-handed for inquiries, he spent five shillings on a bottle of red wine from Luka.
The History Department shared an office building with Elyon's own Law Department. Just as he was about to enter clutching the wine, the gatekeeper stopped him.
"You know students aren't allowed to drink on campus. Let me see your student ID; did you hurt your arm drinking and brawling?"
Elyon couldn't help but smile wryly; did he really still look like a student? He handed over his credentials to the gatekeeper.
"I've already graduated, sir. The wine is a gift."
"What kind of ID is that?"
After scrutinizing the ID, the gatekeeper handed it back to Elyon.
"You don't look much like a policeman. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were one of those troublemakers from the school trying to fool an old man. Go on in."
Elyon proceeded, checking each office's brass plaque. He stopped at one that was skewed, a missing nail and a layer of dust betraying its age.
"Senior Associate Professor, Leopold von Joyce. That's the one." Elyon knocked on the door.
"Who is it? Come in and open the door yourself."
Inside, the room was filled with bookshelves stacked with books and display cabinets with various animal skeletons. Elyon even spotted what looked like an oversized human skull. Behind a window-lit desk, a white-haired, balding man scribbled furiously amidst a mountain of books.
"Good morning, Professor Leopold."
The man behind the books glanced up briefly and said, "Who are you, and what do you want? Never mind, it's not important. Help me get a book called 'Studies of the Far East' from the second shelf on the left, third row."
Elyon located the book, as thick as an adult man's thumb, with a plain cover and yellowed pages. He pulled it out and brought it to Professor Leopold's desk.
"You have one minute to state your business," said the professor as he took the book and set aside his pen.
"Respected professor, my name is Elyon. I just graduated this year and am now a policeman in the Gonia district. I attended your lectures last year, and this is a small token of my appreciation." Elyon handed over the bottle of wine.
"Thank you for the wine. You have thirty seconds left," said Professor Leopold, checking his watch after accepting the gift.
"I have some historical inquiries, some of which may even be taboo."
"Oh, interesting, why come to me? There are plenty of history professors."
Elyon knew he had come to the right person; this professor would likely not rush him away. He moved a chair over and began, "The other professors always take the church's myths as ancient history. Only you, professor, are willing to seek new interpretations from different angles."
"Ha! You think I'm some sort of madman who doesn't believe in any religion? Myths be damned, history should be deduced from relics and artifacts, stripped of mythical embellishments to reveal the truth. Those so-called gods and angels are nothing more than transcendents who lived long and had great power. Speak up, what do you want to know?"
Elyon took out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the professor. It had two traditional Chinese characters written on it.
"Hello," Elyon silently recited the word.
"Professor, could you help identify the era and region of this script?"
Leopold scrutinized the paper and then spoke seriously, "This is a lost language from the Silver Age, found not only in various sacrificial objects from the East and West Silver Age but also in some murals."
The Silver Age, the murkiest period recorded in archaeology books, immediately follows the earliest Golden Age when various races first established their civilizations.
The Silver Age marked the reign of the four malevolent gods who defeated the races. Was it possible that the so-called malevolent gods were contemporaries from over a millennium ago?
"Some say this is the language between the malevolent gods and their followers."
"Nonsense. Recent finds have shown that the language's speakers may have been the ones who defeated the malevolent gods. Many artifacts and sites used for worshiping the evil gods dramatically declined a hundred years after the Silver Age. As for the so-called Bronze Age when the eight true gods supposedly rebelled, there's hardly any evidence of malevolent gods causing trouble, but giants, elves, and dwarves had almost vanished."
"Elves? Are they pretty?" Elyon's first thought was superficial. "Are there really elves and giants?"
"That giant skull by the door could well belong to a giant. Most people no longer believe in these legends. I suspect elves and giants are just branches or subspecies of humans, wiped out or assimilated during the rise of modern dominant races. Vampires and werewolves, too – they were just fortunate enough to maintain their lineages."
Elyon nodded, remembering the werewolf he killed last week and the beleaguered vampire working at the Special Actions Division.
"So no one can read these characters? Where can I find them?"
Leopold looked up intently, "The churches and royal archives collect these things. They're originally inscribed on clay tablets, called ancient scriptures, and later copied by hand."
"Hand-copied? Hasn't anyone tried to decipher them?"
"Few ancient scriptures were translated during the Silver Age. But since the original texts of these translations have been lost, people can't decode the language one-to-one. Why does a policeman care about this? Have you found a way to decipher it?"
"No, just curious. It's a pity these secrets aren't more widely known."
"Though the public translations of ancient scriptures resemble religious texts or philosophical tomes, the churches are hunting down those who privately hold these items. Three hundred years ago, merely writing these words would've earned you a spot on the pyre. Today, at the very least, you'd have to surrender your collection and be exiled to the Northern Continent."