He took out the tome of black skin he had received from the skeletal creature's remains. It was still glowing an eerie purple.
He had studied it completely on the journey, but unfortunately he was only able to read a fraction of it, since the rest was written in an ancient language, which he didn't understand.
„Maybe I should sell it... After all, it's an artefact from an ancient and powerful creature. There's nothing I can do with it." He thought.
The library of Vellaris was an ancient edifice that had withstood the ravages of time, its stone façade scarred with the whispers of centuries-old secrets. The grand doors, carved with the likeness of ancient scholars and mythical beasts, groaned open as Aldwyn approached, the scent of aged parchment and dusty tomes wafting out to greet him. He stepped inside, the soles of his boots clacking against the cold marble floor as he made his way to the counter.
The librarian, a stooped figure with spectacles perched precariously on the end of her nose, peered up at him over the rim of her book. Her eyes widened when she saw the tome in his hand, and she hastily set her reading aside. "Ah, I see you've brought something... unique," she said, her voice a dry rasp. "May I?"
Aldwyn handed over the book, and the librarian took it with a trembling hand, her eyes scanning the cover with a mix of excitement and fear. "This... this is the work of the Outer Gods. It's not something one comes across often."
Her gaze met his, and he could see the questions swirling in her mind. "Where did you acquire this?" she asked, her voice hushed.
Aldwyn recounted their encounter in Eldenbrough, the battle with the skeletal creature, and the tome's subsequent discovery. The librarian's eyes grew wide with disbelief and horror as she listened, her hand fluttering to her chest as if to still her racing heart.
"The Outer Gods' tomes are not to be trifled with," she warned, her eyes never leaving the book. "But I understand you wish to understand its contents. I can recommend a scholar, one who dabbles in ancient tongues. He's quite discreet and might be of assistance."
„That would be even better. I would be able to acquire the knowledge first and then sell it."
Aldwyn nodded, his interest piqued. He followed her instructions to a quiet corner of the library, where the scholar in question was engrossed in a dusty tome of his own.
The scholar, a man named Déshì Terrazas, had a wild tangle of gray hair and an air of both brilliance and madness about him. His eyes lit up at the sight of the tome, and without a word, he began to flip through its pages, his long, spidery fingers tracing the ancient symbols.
"This is indeed a relic of the Outer Gods," Déshì murmured, his eyes alight with fascination. "But what do you seek from it?"
Aldwyn leaned against the dusty bookshelf, his arms crossed over his chest. "Its secrets, of course. Anything that could help me to understand this world."
Déshì's eyes glanced up briefly before returning to the book. "Ah, a seeker of truth in a world shrouded in shadows. I understand your curiosity, but beware. Knowledge from the Outer Gods does not come without a price."
The scholar spoke of the Outer Gods, beings so ancient their names had been forgotten by most, reduced to whispers in the darkest corners of the world. They were entities of immense power, their influence felt in every aspect of existence. These gods did not demand worship, nor did they grant blessings. They simply were, their wills inscrutable and their motives unknown. Some believed they had created the world, while others thought they were merely witnesses to its creation, ancient spectators watching the unfolding of fate from their shadowy realms.
Their tomes, like the one Aldwyn had brought, were not meant for mortal eyes. They contained knowledge that could shatter the very fabric of reality if misinterpreted. Each page was a puzzle piece in an ever-expanding picture of the cosmos, revealing truths that could drive a man mad or grant him power beyond measure. The symbols etched into the ancient leather were not mere words, but living thoughts frozen in time, echoes of the gods' whispers. To read them was to dance with insanity, to walk the fine line between enlightenment and oblivion.
Déshì Terrazas spoke in a hushed tone, his eyes flicking over the pages with a mix of reverence and trepidation. "This tome... it speaks of a prophecy. A new birth, an awakening of one of the Outer Gods."
Aldwyn's heart raced. "I have a question, if the outer gods are not the same gods as those that we worship and perform rituals to, then which are the true gods?"
Déshì's gaze remained fixed on the book, his expression inscrutable. "The true gods? Perhaps the question you should be asking is not 'who are the true gods', but rather 'what is truth?' The Outer Gods are a force unto themselves, beyond our understanding. They are the whispers that stir the fabric of existence, the shadows that lurk beyond the veil of our reality. The gods of your pantheon are but reflections of those whispers, shaped by the fears and desires of the faithful."
„So does this mean that our Gods are only servants of these outer gods? Or rather their messengers? But why does the history say that humans fought against the gods? What was the reason?"
„In addition, our power comes from this Gods, all the pathways symbolize a certain God. But what if these powers are actually derived from the outer gods? Could our gods simply be a bridge between us and them?" Aldwyn immediately had a lot of questions in his head, but he couldn't find any answers.
Aldwyn took the tome back and asked Déshhi, "Where can I sell something like this?"
The scholar looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before speaking, "You're looking for the Arcane Emporium. It's an auction house, where the most rare and powerful artifacts are bought and sold. It operates daily from twelve to eight in the evening, but you must be registered to attend."
Aldwyn nodded, the information sinking in. He thanked Déshhi and made his way through the bustling streets of Vellaris, the cobblestones slick with the recent rain. The air was thick with the scent of roasting meats and freshly baked bread, but he paid it no mind.
The Arcane Emporium was nestled between two grand houses, a modest building that belied the power and wealth contained within. Above the arched doorway, a sign swung gently in the breeze, the gold lettering catching the light of the gas lamps that lined the street.
Aldwyn stepped inside, the warmth of the candlelit interior a stark contrast to the chilly air outside. The walls were lined with shelves of ancient artifacts, their origins and purposes lost to time. A clerk at the counter looked up from his ledger, his eyes lingering briefly on the tome in Aldwyn's hand before he schooled his expression into one of polite curiosity.
"Welcome to the Arcane Emporium," he said, his voice a mellow baritone. "How may I be of service?"
Aldwyn laid the tome on the counter with a thud. "I wish to sell this," he said, his voice firm. "And I need to register for the upcoming auction."
The clerk's eyes widened slightly before he regained his composure. He pushed a small, leather-bound book and a quill towards Aldwyn. "Very well. The rules are quite simple. The Arcane Emporium takes a fifteen percent commission on the final bid of any item."
Aldwyn nodded, his gaze unwavering from the tome. The clerk cleared his throat, "Before we proceed, I must ask, do you understand the... significance of this artifact you wish to sell?"
"I am aware of its value," Aldwyn replied, his voice laced with the coldness of a winter's breeze.
The clerk studied him for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Please, leave your details and the item for verification. The auction begins at sunset."
Aldwyn jotted down his name and the description of the tome before handing it over, the weight of the decision feeling like a stone in his chest.
....
Aldwyn stepped into the auction hall of the Arcane Emporium, his boots echoing in the grand space that had been meticulously designed to resemble a theater. The walls were adorned with velvet curtains, and the air was thick with the scent of wax and incense, the flickering light from the chandeliers casting dramatic shadows across the floor.
The attendees were a motley assortment of nobility, merchants, and figures shrouded in mystery. Their eyes, filled with greed and curiosity, turned to the newcomer as he took a seat in the back row. The murmur of their whispers grew louder as they scrutinized him, their gazes lingering on the hilt of his twin blades peeking out from under his cloak.
The auctioneer, a man with a flair for the dramatic, swept onto the stage with the pomp of a peacock. His eyes, a piercing blue, scanned the room, seemingly cataloging every soul present. His smile was wide and greasy, his teeth too white to be natural. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the chamber like the toll of a funeral bell.
"Welcome, esteemed guests, to the Arcane Emporium. Tonight we shall bear witness to the exchange of treasures that have been lost to time, relics that whisper of power and secrets, and much more."
The auctioneer's words hung in the air like a promise, and with a flick of his wrist, the lights dimmed, and the first item was brought out. It was a delicate necklace, the glowing gem at its center pulsing with an unearthly light.