I slept a dreamless sleep. My head throbbed with pain and with knowledge being assimilated—connections between the neurons in my brain being forcefully formed in real time. By learning the language of the Orvelis, I had gained more than just vocabulary; the language was firmly based on runes. Words had power, and when spoken with a drop of energy that power manifested. When carved, the runes created circuits through which energy could flow. I had gained much, much more than the ability to talk to Owl and his people.
I still had to practice. The experience I gained from the ritual was that of an Orvelis, not a human. Our bodies were different; I could not replicate the same hand movements, and even if I knew how to speak their language and understand them, the muscles whose memory those gestures relied on simply were not there.
This was not going to turn me into a wizard overnight, but it had opened a door to magic and to powers beyond anything human.
ººº
I woke with a start. I was on the floor in front of the carving on the wall. All the books nailed to the wall were gone; Owl was collecting the arrows as I sat up.
"Huh, that was faster than expected. I guess you humans are smarter than you look." He turned, looking me up and down.
"Thanks…" I rubbed my temples, speaking his language as if by instinct. It sounded wrong to my ears—my brain had been wired to expect someone else's voice speaking those words.
'What a weird experience.'
It felt like talking only to hear someone else's voice coming out of my mouth.
"Wait, that wasn't a compliment!" I noticed, squinting my eyes.
He smirked.
I shook my head. "How long was I out for?"
"Just a few minutes," he shrugged. "Frankly, I expected it to take hours. Color me impressed!"
My eyes glanced at the wall behind him and at the carving. I could now read the circle of runes around the woman's image. It read:
"O Goddess of Knowledge and Wisdom;
For a sacrifice of forgotten lore,
I plead for knowledge of the Orvelis language."
It was surprisingly simple, though it had a steep price. Dozens of books, all of them unique to this library, and a core to activate the whole thing. We had purchased the knowledge and the experience of someone that had grown speaking Orveli.
"When are we moving again? Is your hideout too far?"
He collected one of the last arrows. "We move as soon as I'm done. It's getting dark, so we'll have to be a bit faster this time. Maybe you should take that pill when we leave."
"I'll try to keep up without it. I would rather not damage my leg anymore."
I moved away, deciding to explore the library a little. There were many books around still, but I had two topics in mind. Finding the first book was easy; its title read "Basics of Body Strengthening, by Azaruy Luphran."
'What a weird name. Anyway, that's one down. I can start getting stronger now — this can improve my healing and increase my odds of not ending up as the first human husk.'
I looked carefully through the stacks. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Owl was finished and waiting by the front door. He decided to wait; I wasn't sure whether it was out of curiosity or patience, but I leaned toward the former.
After a few minutes, I found the other book.
"Basics Enchantments and Simple Rituals." This looked mass-produced, there wasn't even an author name. The cover was worn, the page edges darkened from use. I skimmed a few pages—explanation on basic runes and their multiple possible combinations, basic rituals with a low cost that served for practice. It was crude, but the idea of it made my chest burn with excitement.
'Finally.'
I closed the book and stuffed it in my backpack along with the other one. Time to go.
Meeting Owl by the door, he gave me a quizzical look. "Ready to go?" I asked, avoiding the implied question.
He nodded, bringing a finger to his lips, gesturing for silence.
ººº
We walked faster this time. My leg complained; a wrong step made me grit my teeth, but the mood the knowledge gave me kept the pain from becoming the center of everything. I was already imagining devices, more specifically something with lots of firepower. A grenade— I grinned to myself.
'Ah... Human nature. I just learned how this works and already want to turn it into explosives.'
Up ahead the street opened into a plaza centered on a tall, dilapidated building. It caught my eye. 'A church.' Even ruined, the place looked older than the surrounding blocks—as if it was already there before the fortress was even built.
Dozens of husks stood in a ring around the church, like broken statues. They looked dazed, their hollow eyes fixed on the weathered walls. Something was drawing them in and, weirdly, keeping them just far enough away.
Owl gestured for me to follow. We moved through side houses that shielded us from sight, avoiding the husks' paths. They were easy enough to kill in small numbers, but fifty at once? Not even Owl would take that chance while trying to keep me alive.
We slipped into the back alleys and worked our way to the street that led to Owl's hideout. I had the sense of being watched—maybe it was paranoia, maybe the husks' hollow stares, but the air felt tight, like walking on the edge of a skyscraper.
We climbed a low wall and dropped into a narrow lane. Owl's footsteps were soft; his bow was a shadow across his back. He moved like he believed the street itself could hear us.
'I hope we are close'
Then things went wrong fast. First there was a sound—soft, a metal ringing like a spoon against a pan, far off but steady. It... It wasn't the bell, though metallic, it wasn't nearly as loud as what I had heard. Owl stiffened beside me; I felt him tense.
'What is this?'
My eyes met Owl's searching for an explanation. But there was none, he was just as confused as I was.
He put a finger to his lips and pointed down the lane. The husks. They had stopped their staring and had begun to move—slow at first, as though tested by something, then with that inhuman, ratcheting shuffle that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Their heads tilted.
I expected an explosion of movement, dozens climbing over one another to be the first to reach the sound. But that didn't happen. They stayed there, still. The only difference being they were now looking toward a street; the street we were supposed to go to. Their eerie gazes made me feel like they were looking at future me, when I finally stepped on the stones of that path.
A sudden realization downed on Owl, he picked me up on a shoulder and darted inside a house and out of sight. It was mostly broken down and getting in through a large crack on the well, we pressed our backs against the cold stone bricks. Edging a view through the ragged curtains of a window, what I saw made my blood run cold.
Black armor thundered against the stone floor, wraiths, beings of hate and malice. The Centurions. Each carried—'Oh God, those are people.'
Tied and with bags over their heads, they squirmed like maggots against the vice grip of the black knights—to no avail. They had captured more people and were making their way towards the citadel, we just happened to be between them and their destination.
The crowd of husks followed them with their robotic gazes, not daring to move. As if they knew the hierarchy of their own existence and didn't dare to disobey it.
I retreated from the window, hiding as much as I could. For the second time since I got thrown in this place cursed with more gods than it should, I just closed my eyes and regretted not having a god to pray to.
The minutes stretched, small beads of sweat ran down my skin as the harsh sounds of armor plates scraped against my ears. I heard the prisoners wail and curse as they passed, they beat against the armor, forced their chains, fought with fervor and desperation. The chains held, their captors felt nothing. They were already dead, they just didn't know it yet.
They were gone before I realized I had been biting my own lip hard enough to make it bleed. Impotence hurt more than anything else at this moment. I was tired of doing nothing, of being powerless. Opening my eyes, to find owl looking out through the curtains, I steeled myself.
Want it or not, a timer had been set upon us. The bell would toll again, we had to be ready for it.
I made a promise to myself.
'There will not a be a third time.'