B4 Chapter 462: Ancient History, pt. 4

That roiling pool of arcane in the centre of the room held him in a tight grip, claws of regret and horror sinking deep into his chest.

A library.

He didn’t want to believe it. Not with any depth of his soul. Oh, he’d never been the most scholarly or studious of men. There wasn’t much to be had in the way of reading material out in the Arboreal Sea, at least not counting the things that his father had written out for him directly. Still, knowledge — he had a respect for it. Respect for the place it held in the betterment of people and society.

After all, he had felt its boundless rewards more than almost anyone, and the gutting hole that could be left behind in its absence.

Kaius clenched his hands, driving his fingers deep into his palms.

What if, in the brutish destruction of the crystal library, they had cut off the Castellan from knowledge of his family? Here and now, in the most unexpected of places, he finally had a morsel to drive him onwards. Ancient history, yes, but a history of his name regardless. Anything and everything was precious when he had nothing. Other than his legacy, the only thing that Kaius could lay claim to was his name and a smattering of vague stories and anecdotes that his father let slip every now and again.

If he had ruined that…

Kaius breathed out heavily in an attempt to expel his regret. The sound was devastatingly loud amongst the shocked silence that held him and his team.

It didn’t work. Clearly, the Castellan still knew more, so it wasn’t a total loss. But this would be a moment he would remember for the rest of his life. No matter what happened next, there would always be that niggling question. What could he have learned if they’d just taken a little more time to understand what they were looking at?

Gods, how could they have been so stupid? How could the bloody thing be a library in the first place? The Guild had no records of such structures in any of the archives. Yet, at the same time, how would they know? Only the gods knew how much had been lost by over-eager adventurers seeking to squash any potential threat they found.

A thought occurred to him. If they had destroyed the core and left the mainframe untouched, there was a good chance he never would have learned anything anyway.

Who knew if the strange artifice the Empire used to record their histories would have stayed intact without a power source. More importantly, the devastating surge of mana the Castellan created when it had teleported into the room might have been impossible without additional support.

In another life, he might’ve never learned even this much.

The will of the gods was fickle and cruel at times. He shook his head — at least then they would have been ignorant of the loss.

While he and his team grappled with the enormity of their actions, the Castellan simply waited patiently. Doing his best to push his feelings aside, Kaius contemplated the creature.

It was strange: an artificial life, but one with a mind. At times it felt viciously intelligent, and he could swear he felt emotion clouding its voice and shining in its eyes. Yet it was so even-toned that he could never forget what it was.

It had none of the raw chaos that came with flesh and blood.

He was no philosopher, and he had no intention of declaring it inferior — regardless of the ridiculousness in making such a statement about a creature so much stronger than him.

It was just different. Alien. Even its deference perturbed him. Perhaps for one of his ancestors millennia dead it would have been simple and mundane to be served by a Mythril being, but he lacked that context.

There was still so much they needed to know.

“If we had known, we never would have destroyed it,” Kaius said. “The creations of the Empire far exceed anything in the world today. Not even the dwarves come close to the artifice that can be found in these ruins. Even their automata are supposed to be less elegant.”

The Castellan focused on him.

“The Drozag Protectorate still exists?”

Yet more revelations, spoken so casually. From what he knew,it was suspected that the Empire encompassed all the races of Vaastivar, but the method and function of how that played out was unknown.

So they had been a vassal state. He wondered if the elven conclaves had been another.

“In a sense,” Kaius responded, “the name itself has survived, in that it is what we call the mountain range. It cuts Vaastivar from east to west, separating the Altier plains of the Hiwiaan from the untamed jungles beyond. From the little I know, the deep holds are largely independent. Small kingdoms, made up of a handful of cities, stretch through the rock of that mountain range. More importantly, how much do you know? How much of this library was lost? You still seem plenty knowledgeable.”

“To stretch the metaphor, the librarian survived, and I have a broad knowledge of much of its contents, though I lack much in specifics. Common knowledge, mostly, and a few deeper specialties that were used regularly in this facility. Unfortunately, much of that is advanced knowledge, and the fundamentals they rely on have been fragmented. It is difficult to explain. Some of the data is salvageable, but it will require the crystal flumes to be repaired and regrown before the mess can be untangled. What is totally lost is gone forever.”

Kaius nodded and shifted to look at his friends. Each of them had come out of their shock and so far had been listening in interest. There was so much they could ask.

“Any ideas, Ianmus?”

The mage breathed out slowly. “Mostly that I want to hurl myself into that pool for the travesty we have wrought. Otherwise, no, not really. Everything is valuable, and there is so much that can be inferred from casual conversations. Most importantly, against all odds, this is your family history. Ask what you need to. The rest can wait.”

Kaius gave his friend a thankful nod and settled back in. So the pressure was still there. It was still on him, then. He would just have to manage.

He went to drum his leg on the floor, only to remember it was missing as the limb twitched.

The sudden disorientation brought something to mind. The Castellan had warned him about rejection — it knew something about his abilities. Potentially even his legacy.

“My leg. How did you know it would be rejected so quickly?”

The Castellan nodded. It was a measured thing, though he needed no reminder. It was a creature that differed from himself and his friends. There was no emotive expression, no unconscious tics or slight adjustments.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“It is a known flaw of Greater Regeneration, a skill that every Unterstern receives once they manage to evolve its lesser variant. One of the few skills with a natural progression.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kaius caught Ianmus and Kenva sharing a look of surprise. Understandable, really — how in the hells did it know his legacy? Potentially even better than he did?

It was a strange and heavy feeling — the vulnerability of secrets being exposed outside of his own will. It was joined by a burning need to know more.