The sacred temple lay shrouded in a dense mist. Its appearance reminded Maebus very much of the Realmsic Castle, with its worn exterior and pointed steeple. Dust rose briskly into the air as Kelm pushed open the temple’s doors. They entered cautiously, staying close and scanning their surroundings. Aside from the multiple rows of pillars that supported the temple’s high ceilings, the stone interior was dark, faded, and empty.
A light appeared in the darkness before them. They halted, watching. The illuminated form of a woman suddenly appeared. Standing about average height, Maebus could tell she was older than he, and extremely thin. She wore a long green-colored dress that flowed elegantly to her feet. Around her neck, she wore a golden medallion that displayed the Archival Symbol of Order. Her face was old, but not wrinkled, and her curly, silver hair reached down just beneath her shoulders. The woman’s green eyes appeared wide and deep with wisdom.
Kelm took a step forward. “Held, Archivist Fable,” he said, bowing slightly with his hands clasped in front of him.
“Held, Grand Wizard Kelm,” Fable replied, also returning the gesture. Her speech was deliberately slow, and her tone was soft yet commanding. “It’s been quite some time since your last visit, yet I sensed your return. It’s good to see you! I’ve missed you, my friend.”
She hugged him, rubbing his back. Kelm beamed boyishly.
“I wish my visit could be under better circumstances, but I’m afraid that’s not the case,” he said.
“Yes, these are dark times ... dark times indeed,” Fable affirmed, rubbing her forearm in contemplation.
“With me, I have King Maebus,” Kelm presented him with an uplifted hand, “And this is the woodsman Normandy. It was his skill and guidance that brought us here this day.”
“Held, woodsman Normandy,” Fable bowed. “Your guidance is most appreciated, and I believe your skill will continue to bless us during the struggles of our Realm.”
Fable turned to face Maebus. “And held, Realmsic King! I’ve followed your life very closely, and have documented your rise to the throne. It has been ... a most fascinating tale,” she bowed.
“Thank you,” he returned the gesture.
“As you may already know, I’m Fable, and this is the Temple of Learning, the origin of the sacred Archival Order.”
Maebus looked around. Although the floor illuminated directly beneath where they currently stood, the rest of the room was darkened.
“Are you sure?” he asked, assuming there would at least be a few books lying around, instead of just empty space.
“Ha, ha,” Fable’s gaze pointed downward. “Beneath this temple is the largest collection of knowledge ever gathered. Its contents date back thousands of years to the ancient Wizard Holdings, which was the first collection of books established by the primordial First Wizards. It was from here that the Annals of other towns originated.”
Fable nodded for the group to follow her. The floor’s magical illumination followed Fable’s steps as she began leading them through the darkness of the temple. Normandy, however, refused to move.
“Are you okay, big guy?” Kelm asked.
The woodsman stood stiff as a tree, as if his own feet were paralyzed. “Just give me a moment,” he exclaimed. “I wasn’t prepared for the floor to light up our every step. Certain types of magic make me nervous.”
“Please don’t be alarmed,” Fable said. “The lighted walkway is symbolic. An Archivist’s duty is to illuminate the path of knowledge for those needing guidance. Only the feet of those truly seeking enlightenment will illuminate. Those with ill intentions, however, remain shrouded in darkness.”
The Archivist watched as Normandy took his first shaky step. Each foot brightened, one after the other.
“Excellent!” Fable exclaimed. “Now come. Follow me down the path of knowledge.”
Normandy stepped quickly to keep pace with the group.
Fable’s long dress dragged behind her as she led them. “Established during the beginning of our kingdom, the mission of the Archival Order has always been twofold: To preserve, and teach Realmsic history and culture.” She held up two fingers. “Throughout my entire life, I’ve been trained to uphold the duties of the sacred Order. Myself and those who were like me have been tasked with the responsibility of memorizing the entire collection of knowledge.”
“No way, the entire collection? Normandy asked.
“Indeed,” Fable said with a bright smile across her thin lips. “In the primordial times, much like today, survival was uncertain. After the original Wizard Holdings were nearly destroyed by fire, it was agreed that all knowledge would become oral in addition to written. That way, even if every single book burnt to a cinder, our history would never be lost.”
Fable stopped suddenly. With a wave of her hand, the floor parted before them, revealing a spiral staircase.
“This way,” she said softly, leading them downward.
With no support rail built into the staircase, they each had to slide their hands along the wall to keep from falling forward. Maebus chuckled to himself as Normandy crouched awkwardly to fit into the cramped walking space.
“You said there were others who memorized the archive?” Normandy asked, trying not to bump his head on the stone steps above him.
“There were, once upon a time. But now, I’m the only one.”
“That’s not good,” Maebus interjected.
Fable slowly nodded. “As I said before, these are dark times. I’m the sole surviving member of my Order and, over the years, even this temple has been forgotten by most. Unfortunately, I’ve yet to find others willing to dedicate their lives to our ancient tradition. In time, I know I will. But until that day, I must bear its burden alone.”
As they reached the bottom floor, the entirety of the lower level illuminated completely in white. Before their eyes, stretching from the ceiling to the floor, were shelves filled with artifacts, books, parchments and scrolls. The collection seemed to expand for miles.
“Incredible!” Maebus exclaimed.
“With respect to the burden which you bear, it’s your wisdom that we’ve come seeking,” Kelm said to Fable.
“Do tell,” she replied.
Kelm updated her on everything: the conquest of Damian, the escape from the Realmsic Castle, their journey through the Northern Lands. Kelm’s voice cracked with what Maebus thought was anger.
“The Realmsic Council is still hiding near the Hellish South Plains, and the Realmsic Army is disbanded,” he explained. His eyes watered as if he were releasing all of the emotion he’d been carrying since the fall of the kingdom—all the hurt he’d been hiding, buried deep within his soul. “Fable, our situation is abysmal. We’ve lost it all. We have nothing. Our only hope is to utilize history as a shield, just as our enemy uses it as a weapon.”
Fable nodded, placing a gentle hand over her heart. “I admit that the Warlord Damian is unlike any other conqueror in history. But I must ask, do you still possess the Realmsic Crystal?”
“We do,” Kelm replied.
Fable smiled big and bright once again. “Then all is not lost, man! All is not so ... abysmal as you think.”
“The intricacy of our plan was solely for the protection of the crystal,” Maebus said. “Above all, we couldn’t allow the Warlord to obtain the sole power of the Realm.”
Fable’s head jerked alarmingly. “What do you mean?”
“Simply that, with the crystal being the source of all magic, it had to be protected at all costs,” Maebus clarified.
Fable threw up her hands. “No! No! No!” she exclaimed.
Maebus’ forehead creased with annoyance. “Do you not agree with the method we used to secure the crystal?”
“What? No. That’s not what I meant,” Fable said reassuringly. “What I’m saying is that your knowledge of the Realmsic Crystal is not accurate.”
Kelm raised a sharp eyebrow. “How so?” he inquired, taking a step closer to her.
“Well, it’s true
that with the Realmsic Crystal, Damian would possess unlimited magic. But the crystal is certainly not the source of all magic.”
Maebus and Kelm glanced at each other. Confusion showed in both their befuddled expressions.
“Excuse me?” Maebus asked, trying to make sense of what he’d been hearing.
Fable paused, seeming to consider her next words before speaking again. “Truth sometimes is more fleeting than life itself. The discoveries of the world resonate for only a moment, and then fade away as echoes in time. Meaning and understanding become lost, and all that remains are myth and legend. What I’m about to share with you is one of those truths lost within millennia. I never considered it, but I may be the only person living who still knows the truth.”
“What truth?” Kelm asked.
Fable looked deep into his eyes. “The secret of the Realmsic Crystal, and how magic began in the Realm.”
Chapter Thirty-Five