Read All of Book 1: Here
Esmun searched through the books of the temple library. Selecting a book from the endless shelves, he moved to a table and sat. The old dragon hide cover was cracked and faded, a testament to the old book’s age. Esmun ran his hand down the uneven surface, tracing the gold engraving that was the book’s title.
“The War on Magic {The Idemoni War}” the title said. He flipped the old book open and turned through the old leather pages, reading the faded black ink.
‘The onset of The Idemoni War has been heavily debated for years, due to the burning of the record house in the year 2, which destroyed Archana’s records. And, of course, if the Idemoni even keeps records outside of the barrier, nobody will be able to see these records and make it back alive. The Idemoni War set a new world in motion, with the rise of the Creator and the creation of the great barrier, which unified the world under the country of Achana, and taulaga and failoga have never had a major fight again.’
“Guardian Esmun?” a voice called out. Esmun looked up and saw a temple guard standing at the library’s door. He immediately bowed, his white metal armor shining in the reflected sunlight from the window, “I apologize for interrupting your reading Nadria, but Familier Ingrid and Creator Xinar sent me to bring you to the throne room. They would like you to discuss the events of yesterday with the taulaga user.”
“Thank you, Magi,” Esmun said, standing. He put his book back on the shelf and hurried away to the throne room from the library. It must be important if they called to see him. Esmun’s mind started racing with the possibilities, maybe the man escaped or turned into some horrible non-human Idemoni, or perhaps he was never an Idemoni at all and was just a buff guy with anger issues.
Esmun laughed at himself for even thinking of the last one as he came to the throne room door. Holding out his hand, he hovered over the heavy Goldwood frame, studying himself in the shining surface.
“Guardian Esmun,” he said, “open!”
The door slowly swung open, revealing the massive room behind it. Esmun immediately lowered his head and looked at the red and gold carpet on the ground. The light from the windows lining the wall reflected the dark brown wooden floor.
“Guardian Esmun,” Xinar’s voice called, “enter.”
Esmun looked up, taking the room in. a large rectangle with 7 narrow, pointed windows on either side, casting beams of light leading up to the golden throne of the Creator. Familiar Ingrid and Creator Xinar were near the throne, Ingrid sitting on the throne and Xinar standing next to her, holding the Failoga Book above its pedestal. If any other person dared sit on the Creator’s throne, they would be risking banishment to the lands outside the barrier. However, the throne rules don’t apply to the 457-year-old Familier. It is the youngers duty to the elders to provide for their needs, and if anyone could be considered an Elder, it was the Familier, the oldest person alive.
Esmun slowly approached the throne. He drew his sword and kneeled in front of the two.
“Rise, Esmun, we have no time for your theatrics,” Ingrid said. Esmun sheepishly stood, stopping the customary actions for approaching the throne, “You stopped a Taulaga user yesterday?”
“Yes Familier,” Esmun responded.
“You are absolutely sure it was really a Taulaga user,” Xinar said.
“Yes, Creator, I defeated him by destroying his sacrificial orb,” Esmun responded. What was this about?
“That’s the third one this month!” Xinar muttered, “this spike cannot be good.”
“Indeed, Xinar,” Ingrid responded. Her staff glowed slightly, Esmun watched with interest. The Staff of Memories contained all the collective knowledge of the past four Familiers knowledge that spanned thousands of Generations. From the creation of the Barrier and the Creator to this very second. Ingrid drew upon this knowledge to advise the Creator in his actions, using the past to shape the future.
“The last time a spike like this occurred was in the year 900, under Creator Barvet and my predecessor, Familiar Qizet. As the spike continued, it was revealed that there was an Idemoni Mastermind behind it, only known as Kronan, who was at the center of a supply chain into Achana. As the Guardians of the time began dismantling his supply chain, he disappeared.”
“You think this could be another of those situations?” Xinar asked.
“It is entirely possible,” Ingrid responded.
“If I may,” Esmun said, “the number of users always seems to be growing or shrinking with each passing year. Maybe we are just getting unlucky and having more growing years than shrinking years.”
“Also a possibility, things don’t always have to have a bigger motive behind them,” Xinar said.
“Still,” Ingrid responded, “I believe it to be helpful to search for a connection between these cases. Even if it turns out to be nothing, it could be crucial to catching a plot before it occurs.”
“Let’s have dinner with the Guardians to have them recount the past encounters and see if we can find a link,” Xinar said. Esmun and Ingrid nodded in agreement.
“Esmun, use the cerebell to command the other Guardians to my dining halls,” Ingrid commanded. Esmun nodded and focused, telling the others. Xinar and Esmun helped Ingrid onto her feet, and they made their way out one of the side doors next to the throne.
Fremont entered the small dining hall with Bao. The Familiar and Creator were there with Warinot and Esmun already. Food was being brought out by the Temple workers. As Fremont sat, one man came out with a golden cup on a tray, an armed Temple Guard stood on either side of him. He took small, careful steps towards the table, desperately hoping not to spill a drop of the precious liquid inside the cup. Stopping at the table, he lowered the tray. Familiar Ingrid took the cup and thanked the man, who bowed and hurried away, no doubt relieved. The Guards left the room, and Ingrid brought the cup to her lips. The others watched as she drank, then quickly turned their attention to their food.
The Flavriant Potion, a concoction known to slow the aging process to a near halt, allowing its drinker to live for centuries longer than others. It was only allowed to be consumed by the Familiar, which is why the plant it came from, Flavrient root, was kept in a secret location and brewed into the potion every day under the watchful eye of the most trusted Temple Guards. Fremont glanced at Esmun, who quickly turned his eyes off the potion and back to his food. Fremont chuckled silently, The brewing recipe was kept a closely guarded secret, and if anything made Esmun mad, it was not knowing how to brew something.
“We would like to revisit the different Idemoni sightings that we have seen over the last few months.” Xinar said, “to search for a connection.”
“I think the biggest thing is they all seem to be experienced with their magic. Each one was good with their summoning or sacrificing, we would have noticed somebody fail, but they never have.” Fremont said.
“Do you think they’re all connected? At least the one yesterday seemed to be an addiction, nothing more sinister than that.” Bao said. Esmun nodded.
“Yes, but though the people seem innocent of the method of which they are receiving their Taulaga items, we need to see where these artifacts are coming from,” Ingrid said. The guardians nodded and thought, trying to tie the different attacks together.
Thirty minutes later, the empty plates were cleared. Xinar sat back in his seat, thinking.
“Nothing,” He said, “as far as we know, there is no connection between the different Taulaga attacks.”
“That’s good, though, right?” Warinot asked.
“Not precisely,” Ingrid said, “If they are all separate incidents, we may have a larger problem.”
“We will continue searching. Maybe there is yet something that we can find.” Xinar responded. The Guardians bowed to Ingrid, to Xinar, then left the room. Xinar and Ingrid retired to the throne room to search the maps for the most likely town that the Idemoni base of operations would be. Fremont looked between the other three guardians.
“Do you think there’s really an Idemoni behind these attacks?” he asked. Warinot shook his head.
“Maybe some of these guys knew each other, but I doubt there’s a more powerful force at play here. Taulaga doesn’t have enough users to form an actual complex plan with each other,” he said. The other two nodded.
“Oh well, at least we could probably wrap up any little group that remains,” Bao commented. The other guardians nodded and went off to their rooms. Secure in the massive stone temple, secure in the Golden Barrier, secure in themselves.
Chapter 9: Here
Will Fall Writings 