"You have quite a collection of prohibited articles, don't you," Elyon mused inwardly. "Just curious, really. Came across it a couple of days ago on a case. The culprit had written these characters on the ground. So, nobody understands them?"
"At least no one currently in academic circles. The culprit probably just memorized and copied the original text. So, did you hurt your hand dealing with this?"
"I injured it fighting a wolf. Apart from the church and the royal archives, where else might I find these ancient texts?"
"Clay tablets from the Silver Age are priceless relics, but paper copies might be found among those who fancy old and rare collectibles. Since you brought a pricey bottle today, I'll give you a piece from my collection as a gift."
Professor Leopold rummaged through a pile of papers that looked like trash, eventually handing Elyon a crumpled sheet.
"Take a look at this, it's getting late, and I won't keep you for dinner."
Elyon scanned the paper, indeed in traditional Chinese script, then carefully folded it and slipped it into his pocket.
"Thank you, Professor. I'll come back if I have more questions."
"Sure, just don't rat me out if you get caught."
Elyon left for home, resisting the urge to read the paper on the way.
After a simple meal at a nearby diner, Elyon secured the doors and windows of his home before unfolding Professor Leopold's paper to read.
"After days of fierce battle and the sacrifice of many fellow disciples, fortunately, the Third Malevolent God has been sealed and banished to another dimension. Sadly, over half of our brethren have perished in foreign lands. A few have been seduced by wicked guile, which may lead to future trouble. Those who come to this world after us, I hope you will continue our legacy, eradicate the wicked, and uphold righteousness. Final words of Yuan Guansong, the fifty-third direct disciple of Tianyan Sect."
It seemed Professor Leopold's deduction was correct – it was indeed transients like himself who had sealed the malevolent gods.
But Elyon had never heard of the Tianyan Sect. It would have been even more surprising if it were some descendant of Confucius who had accomplished the sealing.
Why would the eight true gods cover up this history? What was the true history of the Silver Age? And why was this disciple of the Tianyan Sect so certain that more transients would come? What fate had befallen their fallen brethren and descendants?
Elyon felt he had uncovered one answer, only to be met with a slew of new questions.
"Dammit, I wonder if these people knew the way home," Elyon grumbled.
"What way home?" A bell-like female voice came from outside the bedroom.
"Nyara, I was thinking whether we should head back home to visit. It's only three in the afternoon; why are you back so soon?"
Elyon tucked the paper away in a desk drawer and went out to greet his sisters.
"The teacher for our math class didn't show up by two o'clock, and without a substitute, the principal sent our class home. He went to check himself to see if something happened," Nyara explained.
"Alright. What's for dinner?"
"What do you want to eat? We can cook anything for you."
"Rice. Do we have enough money at home? You girls rarely get a break; go shopping."
Elyon had recently made quite a bit of extra money, and without depositing Viscount Perth's "hush money," he pulled two five-pound notes from the envelope and handed them to his sisters.
"Spend it freely, and remember to buy some rice. You can also buy some autumn clothing; it may start cooling down next month."
The sisters eyed Elyon, "Did a rich widow take a fancy to you? You're being so generous. If she gives us ten pounds a month for pocket money, we could help you persuade our parents," Nyara said with her usual sharp tongue.
"No widows, rich or otherwise. This is compensation for an injury I sustained on the job. Go shopping; I'll lie down for a bit."
With a laugh, the sisters pocketed the money.
"Next time we run out of money, should you get injured again?" Seraphina teased.
"Is your brother a bank to you? Talk like that again, and I'll cut your allowance in half," Elyon feigned anger.
Seraphina stuck out her tongue and made a face.
In the evening, the sisters returned from shopping with a small bag of rice, some groceries, and two new sweaters and coats.
"The change," Nyara returned three pounds and six shillings.
"Why is there so much left?" Elyon was surprised to see how much they brought back.
"We bought the rice at the import market. You wouldn't believe how expensive that stuff is – four pence a pound, three to four times the price of refined wheat flour. We got the groceries at the local market, and there was a clothes stall nearby with cheap and nice stuff."
Elyon looked at his sisters, already so grown up and sensible. "Next time we go shopping for winter clothes, don't be too thrifty."
"Sure, aren't you going to show us your rice-cooking skills?"
Brugel's kingdom didn't have the concept of a wok, so Elyon made do with a frying pan and a stew pot to cook braised chicken. Lacking soy sauce and shiitake mushrooms, he improvised with caramelized sugar for color and regular mushrooms for flavor.
Dinner was a hit; the chicken was devoured, and his sisters begged for it to become a regular dish.
Later that evening, Elyon sat reading, trying to find traces of the Tianyan Sect, the Chinese language, or transients, but most historical records didn't mention the Tianyan Sect at all.
Rubbing his eyes, he mused that perhaps only the distant East Continent, similar to the ancient gluttonous empire or the land of his Indian brothers, still preserved complete records of the Silver Age.
At eight o'clock, Elyon was resting when suddenly everything went dark. Not again. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the library.
The comical orb was there, along with three human-shaped entities made of pure light, resembling three-dimensional projections, though their faces were obscured as if by a thick fog.
At the same time, in the heart of Brugel Kingdom's capital, Lumang, in the most central area of Seithsack, inside the Holy Mother Palace across from the chambers where the rulers of the nation – the upper and lower houses – convened, a finely dressed young lady was muttering anxiously to herself.
"Wasn't it supposed to be tonight? Why haven't they come yet? This isn't some strange deity, is it? Should I tell my father? No, better not. Last time I secretly bought those odd items, he grounded me for a week. If I tell him I might be soul-traveling and encountering strange beings, he might lock me up even longer."
The girl was the princess of the Brugel Kingdom, the only daughter of the current King Charles II, Elizabeth Weiting.
As the princess wavered, her vision darkened, and when she awoke, she was already in the great old library, where, besides the beings of light, three other people had gathered.
In the north of the city of Dunland, the young Archbishop Martin Calvin was praying for divine guidance.
Despite being a faithful believer in the God of Justice and Order, the tithes that the church collected in Dunland had bankrupted many farmers, with families begging at the churches for tax relief and being driven out by the regional bishop.
Shouldn't God be just and fair to all followers? On the one hand, there were corpulent clergymen, and on the other, homeless and bankrupt believers.
Martin's faith was faltering. That's when the mysterious orb approached him, and Martin thought it was a demonic temptation. Yet the orb enticed him with neither wealth, power, nor transcendent abilities, nor did it torment him. It simply informed him of a meeting that evening.
Martin continued to pray, but deep down, he thought it was worth a try – maybe someone there could answer his questions.
At eight o'clock, just like last time, Martin found himself transported to the strange library, where, aside from the three light-formed individuals, there were others present.