Chapter 2: The Index (2/2 complete)
(Two weeks ago, a week after the Sorrow Mountain incident)
By the time Osten arrived at Vastichæn, it was nearly dawn. But despite this, people didn't seem to care about sleep. The street banners and flags had been hung for nearly six months now, and they won't be gone until the start of a new year. The Demonspit incident over ten thousand years ago still lingered in people's minds. It's about time people stop reaving from the past. He remarked. The tradition is getting staler and longer each century. It often occurred to him how long a year feels for those German children ('No, not German. Norwegian. Norwegian and Finnish,' he corrected himself out loud, causing people to give him a concerned look), and how much it meant to them. After spending fifteen thousand years of his life dedicated to his work and the magical blessing he was given, he became less aware of time, and of those around him. Compared to his work, they were simply unimportant.
But those children…
'The sentiment,' he muttered, gritting his teeth. 'Where did it come from? What made me choose this path?' Unfortunately, his choice was what led him here. And until someone gives him a good enough explanation, none shall prosper. There are some things that I lived to regret, even if it was small things like knocking someone over or forgetting to give little Elloise the keys so she got locked out for a whole afternoon. Those were things I wish to be undone. However…
Osten came to a stop. He stood before the Department of Councils and reminded himself what he came here for. It was undoubtedly irresponsible and childish, but he wished things didn't have to turn out way. Maybe if it was a few years ago, if I hadn't met them, then I might have made a different choice. It could have been a better choice.
'No,' he told himself. 'Because it would make me regret. But not them. They're unforgivable.'
***
(Three days later. A month after the Sorrow Mountain Incident)
It was an afternoon, and they were watching television on the couch ('This TV's an antique,' proclaimed Osten.) ('An antique?' asked Ben, bewildered. 'It's even better than our current newest model.') ('Alpine civilisation had existed for at least twenty million years. It'll be embarrassing if we haven't got at least better advancements than you people.'). School was on break for Ellie, so they had nothing else to do the whole day. But although recent loose ends had been tied up, and June had stabilised her mood, a more puzzling thought had dropped upon her mind. It was so intensively distracting that she longed to talk to someone about it.
'You saw the what?' asked Osten in disbelief.
'The Talisman of Wisdom,' repeated June. 'It was strange for me, too.'
'You mean, it just outright appeared before we joined you?'
'Yeah… well… I couldn't remember it at all the next day. And my head hurt,' she muttered. She was feeling woozy. 'I wasn't even sure if it was a dream or not.'
'It's peculiar,' muttered Osten, interrupting. 'I mean… this could be the turning point.'
'Wait!' cried June. 'Was this the reason you left for three weeks?'
'After we came back from the Sorrow Mountain,' explained Osten grimly. 'I was supposed to bring the Talisman back to the council. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that they confiscated it from an unconscious you as soon as we were rescued. I didn't even notice. Mind you, we were all but on death's door.
'Then a few days later, they sent me a message, claiming that it was best for the Talisman to be under the Palace's guard.' he took a sip of Smotherly tea. 'What a load of bullshit.'
'Why not back to the tower?'
'They were bribed, I'm guessing,' Osten took another sip. 'Some dumb aristocratic authority from the palace wants to claim the Talisman for themselves, those greedy rats. However, they don't know that, even if they got their hands on it, it wouldn't work.'
June looked up. 'They can't?'
Osten levitated the teacup into the kitchen sink. 'Do you know about hermits? Although we look the same as others, we are inevitably different. Not everyone born on this earth is capable of magic. The same goes for Atlantas and Nomadrians. Even if those No-merdeianx rip their eyes out, magicks won't respond to their requests.'
'What's a No-merdeianx?'
'Merdei means magic, right?' he explained patiently. June nodded. 'So some clever guy decided to invent a pun that describes non-hermits, while homophonous to Nomadrians. Never really liked the term. It makes me sound cringe when I talk.
'What's more important is that Talismans are even more finicky. They choose their ownership.'
'Me?'
'Absolutely,' Osten clapped his hands together.
'No one can reap that privilege from you. Unless they can somehow become you,' added Ellie.
'No one else can use it?' asked June again.
'They can, but instead of outputting the Talisman's magic, they're outputting their own. Though they can blow weaker versions of its spells.' replied Ellie. In the background, Sam grabbed the remote and started fiddling around with it.
'Is it that desired?' asked June cautiously.
'The ambitions of Gorowrath and Osten the Third,' proclaimed Osten. 'Could not be comprehended by mortals.' He stumbled lazily into the kitchen and refilled the kettle. 'What did they want when they created these instruments of chaos and sovereignty? What were their goals? We may never know. All we know is that they were once at the top of the world, bringing magic to brand-new heights.'
Suddenly, a large ball of ice crashed through the window, shattering the glass. Ben cursed something inaudible in surprise, and Osten yelled out of annoyance. Meanwhile, loud thumps and crashes could be heard aloft the rooftops. Noticeably, the sky outside was overcast and rumbling.
'The weather is getting increasingly unstable.' commented Osten wryly, who immediately began fixing the window. 'First a blizzard, and now this. I wonder, how long can we keep at this?'
There are creases on his forehead. June realised. He's been going through loads more than I can imagine.
'This is the best I can do for now,' said Osten, tapping the repaired glass with his index finger. 'My magic is nearly depleted. I need to squeeze out some spare time to cultivate later.'
The wind pounded against the windows. An occasional creak from the framework gave the impression of splinting wood like the house would cave in. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time they've encountered such a phenomenon. At the start of the year, in Switzerland, they experienced the effects of the Talismans' displacement first-hand, which was considered severe back then. Shortly after, they came to the Alpine realm, where the climate was much milder. But now, the negative influence was starting to escalate, getting worse by the day. Even if they managed to retrieve the Talisman, the disasters wouldn't stop until they were in their respective places. It's the Tower of Oblivion. June thought. But is there truly nowhere else to put it?
'Maybe you should convince the council to negotiate this matter with the king,' June heard Ben say. 'Surely he'll understand. Isn't the council going to help?'
'No, not happening,' replied Osten sternly. 'Not happening. Plus, they were never helping begin with. When those jerks involved themselves in this affair, I've already lost all hope.'
'Affair? You mean they -' June gasped. It finally occurred to her what this was all about.
'But…' argued Ben. 'Aren't they in charge of retrieving the Talismans? What caused them to change their mind.'
'ALISTER!' shouted Osten suddenly, startling the rest of them. 'That daredevil. Seizing the chance to take over while I was recovering. That swine, agreeing in hand the Talisman of Wisdom over to the ARISTOCRATS? LIKE THE KING WILL CARE FOR IT, THAT DEMENTED OLD GEEZER. The Talismans aren't just artefacts of use, they're bloody sentient. SENTIENT, and I KNEW it. Even then they STILL won't accept the truth. THE FOOLS! What were they THINKING? Absolutely CLUELESS! They're nothing more than a bunch of NARCISSISTS that care about nothing but their own insignificant DEEDS. The entire WORLD is being put at risk here, and NOW's the time to care about THOSE things. They know BETTER!' He had finally lost his cool.
'Calm down, Uncle,' reminded Ellie, raising her voice. 'It's all too soon.'
'But are you sure that is what you saw?' repeated Osten, looking slightly insane. 'Because the Talisman of Wisdom was deemed an Oblivious on the Magical Index ever since its creation.'
'Oblivious?' asked June. 'Is that a property of the Talisman? And the Index?'
'The Magical Index,' read Ellie. 'Is the universal encyclopedia of Alpine Earth. Every magical record is written in detail, recently or from ancient times. It truly is the keyholder that manifests all the secrets in this world. Every discovered artefact, scroll, and even lost creations are enlisted there, and the best part of it all—' she paused to add clarity '—it basically never exuvates.'
'So… a dictionary?'
'Just like how a dictionary emphasises every word, the Index includes everything the Three Races desire to know about magic.' she said solemnly. 'I have a clairvoyant copy in my room. The original copy is worth more than this country's estate. You should take a look at it—if you're ever a clairvoyant.'
'Would it also explain why the Talisman randomly showed up at your doorstep?' asked June sarcastically. 'From what I've known, me—and my people, really shouldn't have anything related in this field, but that was disproven quite recently, didn't it?'
'This is more serious than you think,' replied Ellie. 'It's meant to be locked up in the Tower. The only reason the country's not freaking out yet is because of the council's false reports.'
'The truth hasn't been made public?' asked Ben.
'Precisely, yes.' replied Ellie. 'But another thing. The council refuses to reveal your identities.'
'Why not? Is it because you'll resent us for it?'
'The council is scared, June,' said Ellie. 'They're scared of you, and your potential influence if the Talisman of Wisdom were ever bound to you. They're afraid that this will impact their authority.'
'But surely everyone knows about our existence by now,' said June. The TV had gone static for some reason. 'Right?'
Elloise sighed deeply. 'That's the problem. They don't know. At least not yet. Everything's been covered up.'
'But I'd never -'
'They'd never believe you,' she said matter-of-factly. 'The Sorrow Mountain incident was falsely acclaimed because the people would never accept the fact that they're dependent on an outsider. And what the council had done proved that.'
The room went quiet. The TV static sounded louder and Osten muttered to himself furiously.
'So then…' said June slowly. She suddenly felt extremely nauseous, like someone kicked her in the stomach. 'After all that bloodshed… within Sorrow Mountain… it was all pointless? After all that… We shall never…' Something clogged her throat, as she struggled to make out words. A second later she retched and blood flew out of her mouth.
'Juni! Oh, please!' cried Sam. 'Someone get a doctor!'
Osten, who was in a trance, sprang up and dove for the ground. One of his hands extended towards June. 'Obsolete.' he whispered. In a split second, everything slowed down. The blood droplets froze in midair. 'Apologies. My second time using this uncanny spell.' he clicked his fingers, and all of the blood vanished like they were never there. 'Feeling better?'
June blinked apprehensively, then relaxed. 'I'm fine.'
'What was that, Uncle?' Elloised asked calmly. 'I didn't detect any damage in her anatomy, but there was something else.'
'Magic,' Osten exclaimed excitedly. 'It's true.'
'What's true?'
'My theory,' he squealed with unmatched delight. 'The Talisman of Wisdom has a special connection to its end user. As much as it reaps their Synph… it blesses them with excessive flux…'
'Synph? But it was blood!' said June, raising her voice. Something's been bothering her the whole time, but no one has given her a great explanation.
'It was Synph, no doubt,' repeated Osten. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably. 'THIS MEANS—THE TALISMAN OF WISDOM HAS YET TO CUT THE CONNECTION! SPLENDID!'
'Help me understand, Osten,' urged June. 'I need a say in this—what does it all mean? Nothing you've said made any sense to me.'
Osten sighed. He looked old and utterly exhausted. 'I don't know. It's too dangerous to inform you, June. Things will get out of hand very quickly. I understand your feeling of betrayal. I do too. But before I sort out this mess, you just need to trust me. You're the last person I wish to be in harm's way.'
'Please!' she begged. 'I promise I'll keep my mouth shut.'
Osten hesitated for a long time. The television was broadcasting a documentary about two Nomadrian pioneers who were allegedly missing in Nevaland before being found ten thousand years later, completely unscathed in the middle of the Nomadrian desert.
'Suit yourself, but don't dig too deep.' he said finally, before handing her a newspaper roll.
***
When she entered Elloise's room, the sky was clear, rid of overcast clouds, and thereby brimming with sunlight. The chaos overrides consistency. June remarked. Nothing in my life is certain anymore. To the left was a stack of worn-out books, clearly been used for decades, even centuries. They sat in a uniform pile next to a large wooden drawer. Even more, books laid vertically aloft a massive bookshelf. 'A whole layer of the shelf was used in every school semester. And that was after we cleared out the entire shelf once,' Ellie complained. Every piece of furniture in the room was made out of extremely light-stained pale wood. It reminded her of the blinding white limestone cathedral sitting on the outskirts of Skendåsgurg. As a Catholic family, she was dragged along every weekend to visit there. Much of her childhood was spent there, boringly sitting on a bench in the corner of the main hall. She listened as those there said their prayers, chants echoing off the elevated ceiling. As a kid, it wasn't the most intriguing experience for her, but she enjoyed parts of it. Glimpsing over the rows of seats, she used to count the panes of tinted glass on the cathedral walls and gaze at the hung chandeliers. Nothing could break her focus, once her eyes latched onto something enticing. On the flip side, she would often be mistaken as deaf or blind, only because she struggled to relocate herself. Once the prayer was over, and the details were recorded, she would leave with a satisfied grin. She was particularly talented at capturing details with sight alone. Even in primary school. It was often the smallest things that mattered to her the most. She could keep calm as long as everything around her was observed, simply seeing them being there. So unsurprisingly, she hated pitch darkness, and a nightlight was compulsory for her to fall asleep at night. This strange quirk (as she put it), which she always believed to be beneficial, was harboured doubt after the tsunami traumatised her for life. For the first time, she had felt she lost control. The tiny things that she'd always yearned to cherish, were swept away instantly. The miniature, dependant were no match against the grand scheme of things in the end. What did I reason myself to protect? She wondered, looking out to the lush, green mountains, endless and eternal. How can I hold of those important to me?
She realised she was struggling to find the book she was looking for. It's true—Ellie had too many books to scour. Trawling through them was difficult, especially since all of them were written in Alphish. From what she heard, the Translation Magic could only perceive and respond verbally, but not literally. 'A book called "The River and the…" something,' she murmured to herself. 'How does that relate?' Finally, on the very top of the bookshelf, stood a thick hardcover. The book was so thick that it even outmatched its length. After being exposed to sunlight for many years, its greenish colour had worn down into a pale grey, bound by golden brown cords. At the centre of the spine were great black Alphish letters, reading "The River and The Catering Man". It took some time and effort for her to reach it, even after tiptoeing on a chair. The book was lighter than expected, although she was curious about how painful it was to carry it in a school bag all day. Naming such a book with a forgettable name was solely for hiding its contents from non-hermits, to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. 'You could name it whatever you want,' Ellie had told her. 'Typically a book that feels like a background decoration. Respectfully, as banal as possible. The suspiciously thick hardcover was inevitable, though.' So much for hiding the Index. She grumbled as she unravelled the cord bindings off the book. I'd just remove it from plain sight or something -
June froze. Flipping over a few yellow-tinged pages, she found—nothing.
Nothing. The pages were blank. She flicked through the entire emblem. Not a single leaf was
'I mean…' she said wryly. 'I could ask her for help, but…' She looked back at the blank copy of the emblem. 'I think I'll figure it out myself.'
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and focused. If the Index was exclusive to hermits, it could reveal its contents when magic gets detected. According to Ozin, despite her large amount of Synph, she didn't have magic reserved. However, once she got her hands on an artefact, she could 'exchange' Synph with the power source, temporarily receiving circumstantial magic. All she had to do was remember.
When she first came in contact with the Talisman of Wisdom, an unexplainable tingle had been in her head. There was a flaming aura around the artefact. Strangely, the aura could still be observed, even when she'd closed her eyes. Surely enough, when she attempted to reach it, imagined closing her hands around it—clairvoyantly—she connected. Then shortly after, before she knew it, something clicked. The Talisman and she became one. The wispy flames engulfed her being, and she was only half in control of the ginormous power. She couldn't remember how it happened, aside from Demonlord's constant threats and the alarming pain outside—and inside—her body. It unravelled in a state of uncertainty—and peril. And once it did, intense maelstroms of magic broke her surface. For a while, nothing could've stood in her path. She was her own god. But as quickly as the massive power produced, it subsided. It was, ultimately, too straining for her.
Maxy had to give her life for my weakness. June thought bitterly. If only I could have held on a bit longer, something might've been different.
'Try finding a barrier.' She recalled Ozin saying. 'Close your eyes. Even if it feels stupendous, believe that it exists. Try reaching for it, amidst the infinite void. It all comes down to your mindset. You have been blessed with great Synph. Thereby, believe in magic. Search different directions, and approach with a different expression. Try again. Embrace the disappointment and frustration. Throw them out of the window. If you do, you'll arrive against a tall, white wall. It's infinitely tall. It's infinitely wide. Plant your fist against the barrier, and break through. The wall is easier to breach if you overcome your anxiety and your fear. Nothing is impossible to accomplish with the human mindset overloaded with ambition. What's on the other side you ask? It's the magic you reached out for. What does the barrier represent? A vision that we comprehend as reality.'
'This isn't a fairy tale,' muttered June melodramaticly. 'Not everyone will get a happy ending. Reality may be eternal, but I'm not. Still, I need to surpass who I was yesterday, so at least…' she dropped her hand against the book cover. '...those around me, shall achieve a happy ending.'
The wall appeared, and she immediately shot her fist towards it. Remember the feeling.
It felt easier than she anticipated. Her hand pushed through, and a shocking jolt spasmed up her arm. Though not painful, it was definitely not comfortable. The Index must've created the connection because the shock 'tasted' different from the Talisman of Wisdom. She forced her eyes open, and gasped in horror—her right hand was stuck against—no, inside the book. Its magic—as she envisioned it—was shooting into her body like a jet of water. It was syphoning her Synph in exchange for magic, but it was doing it too much, too quickly. Almost like it was… yanking something. She felt something inside her being forcefully pulled out by the magical current. Something in her torso. Still, if she doesn't struggle free, the magic will overload her until… no, stop it. I have to get out. I have to - She yelled as she closed her eyes once more, and frantically tried envisioning the barrier. The hole was big enough to reach back, but her damned arm wouldn't move! It was too strong to disconnect from the other side. The current was holding her captive. Ironically, it almost felt like… like… being electrocuted.
'Let go of me,' she exclaimed. 'This should stop.'
Suddenly, the book released her hand from its grasp. She fell backwards onto the floorboard, followed by a loud THUMP! Unfazed by this, she quickly got back up and scrambled to the table. Did something happen? Did it work? Why is my heart racing? Why do I feel so panicky? Once again, she flipped open the Index. To her surprise, a single line of Alphish was printed on the first page. It read simply:
What have you done?
What have I done? She wondered, dumbfounded. Have I messed up? She looked back at the sentence. What have you done? I don't know. But Jesus Christ this thing could be sentient. My lord, I am afraid. And then: I should've just asked her for help. Plus, compared to me, how long had she used the book for?
It's a five-century-long specialist course in the curriculum. Ellie had complained. That's a long time, even for us.
That's it. Five centuries. Long before however many of my Viking ancestors were born. She sat down on the wooden stool with a heavy thud, feeling defeated. Why do I feel so small and timber? I shall forever envy their absurdly long life expectancy.
More writings appeared beneath the first line, written in a very formal language. June watched in awe as Alphish characters flashed across line by line. It translated:
The Index (Imitation)
Created by One of The Firsts
Copied for the Nine Million Five Hundred And Three Thousand Two Thousand One Hundred And Eighty-eighth Time
Solid-Bound Hardcover Book Edition
Exuviates On January 30th 1965, 2116th Era
Owned by Elloise Grüller
Last Accessed: June 10th, 2:20 pm
Current Time: June 17th, 3:13 pm
Current User: To be listed
Inscribe Keywords to Begin.
Enticed, she grabbed a dipping pen from the organised shelf and flipped the page. The next two pages were both blank. She flipped the page again, and to her shock, it was filled with trawling black Alphish characters. At the very top, a small line of italic text said:
Previously Closed Search
Previously Closed? Wondered June. Was Ellie researching something? Unable to contain her curiosity, she pressed on—
The Hearthaltum Mushroom
Magical Properties: Insulator
Appearance: Short, greyish stem, with a yellow or brown cap that resembles a clover
First Discovered: November 3rd 3001, Third Era
Description: "The fourth species of the Todaetifyl family. Commonly found in marshes and meadows. Its Whiteback counterpart can be found in the Nomadrian Desert. It takes 2 to 6 hours to mature while in black soil. Repels common insects and Claircarriers, as well as weaker magical abilities. Edible."
That was all she could interpret.
What was Ellie doing with fungi? She flipped the page again. Carefully, she made tiny strokes with the dip pen. Ozin insisted on teaching her the verbal, and not so much the spelling. Nevertheless, she still knew how to write certain words.
The Talisman of Wisdom
The ink quickly vanished through the paper, to her dismay, and was nowhere to be found on the flip side. 'Sick,' she whispered, and when she turned back the page again, the vanished words were replaced with another paragraph of Alphish, printed in bright, red letters.
The Talisman of Wisdom
Appearance: Grey, with cyan symbols on all faces
Magical Properties: Absorbant; Tesseract; Hybrid; Clairvoyant (Emulated); Solidified
Dialect: Old Magic
First Created: July 2nd 6965, 2111st Era by Kevranodyp-Gorowrath
Description
The Talisman of Wisdom, commonly known as T1, was the first of the Three Powers, and one of the only two Hybrid artefacts that awakened during creation, the other being the Talisman of Power. An unbreakable solid cube that contributed towards the Magic Construct. It was curated and founded by Kevranodyp (Pronounced "Kraenody") Gorowrath. After his duel with Ozin III, the Talismans were locked and protected by the Magical Council in the Tower of Oblivion, in October 6965, the 2111st Era. As of 1965, E2116, the Talisman of Wisdom has become the first non-natural solid artefact to surpass the 40,000-year exuviation limit, and the second-ever manmade magical mass to become a part of the Construct, before its initial displacement. It has a 9:1 magical density, and its input capacity is unknown. It is an Absorbant and can syphon up to 50,000 kMd (100,000 kSyn) per second. Its Tesseractal range can reach up to 70 km (43.5 mi), which surpassed all imitations of The Index, before being overtaken by Talisman of Truth while Ashfang-Corporeal. Contact can be lethal towards people without innate Magic or Synph Barriers.
Talisman of Wisdom first made its debut public in August 6966, E2111.
Although unconfirmed, the Talisman of Wisdom was theorised to be Soulbound with Gorowrath, which continued even after his passing.
Talisman of Wisdom has a special connection with its user, as it chooses its owner. Gorowrath had once stated: "The soul cannot linger. Before long, some persons shall give it another sanctuary." Which explains that someone, at some point in time, will be able to become his heir.
Magical Abilities and Powers
…
It's been a long time since she'd last read a book. For the moment, it felt like she could finally submerge herself into deep thinking. She always loved reading books—even when she felt down or exhausted from other ongoings.
Now's not the time to reflect on old stories, though.
She flipped to a blank page and refilled the dipping pen with ink. There are more things she wanted to find out. Something important.
My hands are shaking. She realised.
The Curse of Forklör
Once again, the ink soaked through the pages. At first, June didn't remember the burning agony as blood soaked her clothes, but the resemblance was there. Powerful. However, there was only a single response:
Some things are better left buried.
The sound of a clattering pen struck the hardwood desk. Dumbstruck, the Norwegian girl stood still, for a long time. The distant embers of the setting sun embedded its final rays of orange light into a set of tears, tears long forgotten. It's hopeless. Not even the Index could give her an answer. The part of her that governed her thoughts was having a crash-out. Maybe she would eventually find out the truth. Perhaps she'd work something out. Maybe sometime later she would pick up on the conscious sentence the Index left behind, and question matters critically. But in the present, June just wanted to sobre quietly, in a room, and admit that the Curse of Forklör was something she could never beat. It was different, perhaps, in an alternate universe, where the sun spun around the Earth and the moon wasn't real, but not here. Some things are better left buried. She repeated the sentence. Not even I can trust who I really am anymore. The road ahead of me is one filled with obsecurities and unknown.
She rebound the Index and strolled out of the room. She was assigned to prepare the ingredients for the barbeque tonight, how could she deny that? 'Alas,' she said softly. 'Ozin mention taking us to Atlantis some time soon. The folks there should solve some of my mysteries.'
***
'C'mon Juni! You have to try the smoked brisket! It's delicous!'
'Most intriguing wasn't it? I'd imagine you loved the Index.'
'Bon Appetit, Fräulein.'
Compared to a grand adventure, moments spent with friends and family were the dearest and most unforgettable.