Ugh… I wasn’t really prepared to talk about it and still had uncovered precious little functional information thus far. Like my general knowledge of wilderness survival, everything I knew about the contents of the grimoire is academic and theoretical, not practical.

“Can we eat first?” I pleaded.

Dorstark walked to the door. “We can send for food if you would prefer.”

“I suppose that works.”

He gave a short order to a guard outside before closing the door again and approaching the desk where the book conspicuously sat most of the time. “You have never brought up the topic and I had not wanted to pry into your affairs. Now that you are opening up more however, I believe it is time for us to discuss it.”

I always knew it was something we were going to talk about. My apprehension about discussing it was even greater than showing them everything else though, for entirely different reasons. The greatest of which is the fact that I don’t actually know what I didn’t know.

The grimoire was written more like a journal coupled with an anthropology and linguistics log, organized chronologically. Page after page covered the discovery of more runes, where they were found, and all the information around them. There were no definitive statements or declarations - only an abundance of hypotheses. This had always frustrated me.

Even back home it was a sensitive topic. Partly because it was an obsession of mine and also because it could have all been gibberish. I was convinced it wasn’t, which now proved to be at least partially true.

“Here it is.” My fingers ran across the blank areas on its cover. I had already recreated everything written on its surface in my journal having used pictures in my phone as a reference. Tonight I planned to transfer that to the first page of a blank book I purchased to begin figuring out what might have had some effect that first day.

The last two months I had spent most of the time trying to pour through the grimoire’s pages to jot down notes about every character that vanished. As a project it would be a giant cryptologic puzzle without a cipher. That meant trial and error - lots of it.

It occurred to me then that I had not included this in my quest log as well, despite it being an obvious and large part of my main story, not just some random side quest. I didn’t put down ‘breathing’ and ‘eating’ either… given how integral those are to who I am. Oh well, I made a mental note to add it later.

“It first belonged to my great-grandfather and then my grandfather. Then it was passed on to me.” That was the common line I used to explain its origins, which is essentially what they told me as well. The only reason I ever had to doubt it was the first handful of pages being written in a very different hand than those of my great-grandpa’s. One of many mysteries I never solved and eventually just wrote off.

“If I may be so blunt, what is it exactly?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was playing dumb. He wasn’t, and the question had an honest tone. “A book. I have always called it the ‘Romano Family Grimoire’, I answered. “Romano is my family name, like Nes or Dors. We place them at the end of our whole names.”

“Strange, but we have discussed as much during our classes.”

“‘Family’ means family and a ‘grimoire’ is a tome of sorts. That word always resonated more with me.”

“Family or ‘grimoire’?”

That question stung unexpectedly, “‘Grimoire’.”

“What then does it mean to you?”

A heavy sigh I hadn’t intended to let out escaped. “A connection to my family’s history. A sense of wonder and adventure I dreamt of as a child. A purpose,” I revealed while slowly, reverently, unbuckling its straps.

Flipping through random pages I pointed out various symbols, briefly spoke about how they were found, and what we suspected they did. Of the thousands of them in the grimoire, they didn’t appear to all be from the same language or origin.

Some were simple lines and swirls like letters. Others were more detailed and complex. While others still were unknown pictographs ranging from Kanji-like to mysterious hieroglyphs.

Various professors and linguistic experts I had spoken to over the years almost unanimously attempted to dissuade me from pursuing this line of study. They all, to a person, also stated that the differences in the symbols should show that I was looking at multiple characters sets with wholly disparate origins.

That never quite jived with me though. I could feel that they all fit together somehow, or most of them did anyway. If only I could figure it out.

While reminiscing on that particular topic, Dorstark asked, “Are they from multiple cultures?”

I grunted, “Really? ‘Et tu Brute?’”

His head tilted in a very confused manner, not unlike a dog. “I do not understand that phrase.”

“I know. It means, and you ‘Brutus’. From an old ‘play’... err… an old theater.” I wasn’t actually sure what they called plays or, oh... “An old performance. One character questions the betrayal of another who was particularly close with him.”

“And I have betrayed you somehow?” Dorstark quavered.

“No, you have not.” I flipped to the page where I actually wrote about this very aspect of my earliest ‘research’. “It is something I have been asked, or told, many times.”

“So you believe they are all from a single source?”

“I do,” I shrugged, “And I don’t know why I do. I could be delusional here, but it feels right.” I turned the pages aimlessly.

Dorstark placed his finger on a page, “This looks like something I have seen before.”

“Truly?” I squeaked excitedly, “From where?”

He nodded, “I believe it has something to do with fire, combustion, or heat.”

“What makes you say that?”

His grin filled with mischief, “It is my area of expertise in a way. Though I cannot recall where I have seen the likes of it, there is a certain familiarity. From one of the many texts I have read over the course of my life perhaps.”

I flipped my notebook open to the page with the recreated cover and pulled up a picture on my phone to confirm. I pointed out multiple similar runes that were now missing. “Look at these, they all are similar to that one. This one,” I pointed out, “is the same exact character.”

“Indeed,” he mumbled, squinting his eyes and getting a closer look. He rubbed his chin in a ubiquitous gesture illustrating he was thinking on it all. “We may be able to enlist the help of some in the colleges to help decipher this ‘grimoire’,” he said with a significant trill in the first ‘r’ sound.

While that sounds promising, I wasn’t sure how I felt about bringing that many people into my confidence. “I shall think about it.” There would be plenty of time to mull it over while riding in a wagon or sitting around camp on the way.

Servants arrived with food, thankfully interrupting that topic. We ate while discussing the grimoire and its contents, then talked for hours more.

His fresh perspective and experience with magic did give me some excellent new angles to look at certain aspects from. Most of it led nowhere for the moment. I kept notes the whole time which I would refer back to later.

Dorstark excused himself far later than I had ever seen him head off to bed. After he left, I kept working on it in the lamp light, incessantly reading and writing.

Rays of sunlight crept up to the desk, declaring the dawn of a new day. I sat back and flipped through the first pages of this newest book. It began with an illustration of the grimoire’s face before arriving in this world, then examined each of the missing symbols.

Too many of those missing included some type of fire rune in their phrases for it to be a coincidence. Accompanying them were likely triggers or activators of some sort. Perhaps some were ways to alter a statement of them, like archaic adjectives or adverbs which could directly affect reality.

As the evening wore on I looked at the only other items which had inscriptions and had shown any effects, my the two bags I brought with me.

Neither of them had been damaged, though none of those symbols were missing. Between the book’s cover and the bags I found some shared between them. Of these, there were two that stood out as being the most prevalent. So, the next section focused on these. Perhaps there was some key to warding, protections, and permanence.

I was so close to figuring something out. I could feel it itching at the back of my mind. Then, my stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in too long. Forcing myself to stare at the pages for more hours would do no good without sustenance. With that thought I closed the pages, washed up, changed, and headed to the dining hall.

Dorstark sat at the table already eating. “Have you not slept, sir?”

“I stayed up working,” I verified, somewhat abashedly. “Some answers are close, I know it.”

“You will solve these puzzles, I am certain of it.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his suredness, “Your support means a great deal, Dorstark. As do your insights. Without them I may not have made such progress last night… if I did actually get closer to answers anyway.”

We discussed it a bit more as we ate. Everyone else had left while I was on my second plate. I was waiting for it to clear out before broaching another topic with him. “Since we are being rather candid now, is this a good time to discuss the topic of religion?”

Dorstark sat up straighter and looked around, confirming that we were alone. “As good a time as any.”

“You do not seem to like the faiths much.”

“An accurate assessment, sir. Though I would be remiss if I did not caution you from mentioning such things to others,” he whispered.

“I respect your privacy and trust in me Dorstark. Would it be too forward of me to press you further?”

“You would like to know why,” he sighed. “My reasons are not complicated or convoluted. I simply do not believe the gods exist. Nor do I trust the men and women of the ministries.”

That sounded like a tale as old as time itself for all cultures. Educated individuals often found themselves at odds with religions and their members. This sounded deeper somehow. “Where do they get their powers from, if not the gods?”

“The same place we magi gain ours - study. Bending nature to our wills. Few among their ranks ever devote their lives so fully to learning to wield their magic, but it is my belief that magic does not come from the gods.”

“Yet they profess them to be divine powers. I understand your reservations in that regard, but why distrust the individual ministers?”

“They plot and they scheme. Some allow themselves to be manipulated by nobles who would use them as tools to control their people.”

Again, this all sounded pretty standard for religions so far as I was concerned. “And you would lead me to believe the magisters are free of uncouth machinations?”

“Not at all.” He frowned, “Our orders are also plagued with the ambitious or foolhardy, but few are ever used to exploit the masses. At worst, in my experience, some are used to grow a noble’s power or profits. We also do not conspire against our fellows of learning.”

“Ahhh, there’s the rub,” I thought. “That difference is the root of your disdain?”

He nodded, but said nothing.

Infighting among the groups then. Of course he viewed his side as being just or without wrongdoing. I had absolutely no clue whether he could be right or not. Nor could I weigh in on the matter from a position of ignorance. What I knew about this world was a drop in the ocean compared to what I did not know.

“Would you be comfortable accompanying me to the temple again regardless?”

Dorstark straightened his robes and hair as if to make himself more presentable. “Of course, sir. I have been ordered to accompany you wherever it is you would like to go within Orya.”

“That is not what I asked,” I said, shaking my head. “I want to know if you would be comfortable with it.”

“I have no issue being in their presence or that of their idols Sully.”

That was probably as good a response as I was going to get. “Let us go then. I want to visit the market first though.”

We made our way out of the castle grounds with four guards after fetching a couple hundred gold, a few other items I tossed into a satchel, and gearing up as I had the day prior. With only two days remaining in Orya I still did not want to forgo the opportunity to walk the streets, taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells. They were mostly pleasant anyway.

An hour of meandering through the bustling streets, and popping into random shops, I found a jeweler that looked promising. There were numerous interesting items within that looked awesome, but I didn’t need to buy pretty baubles right now. Right? No, what I needed was a compass - which is what I left with.

I could have purchased a more simple version, but ended up buying two of the finer pieces. I tried not to judge myself too harshly. Only one of them was for me… I am weak when confronted with shiny objects.

A few more stops later and I had a few maps, telescopes, and sextants - purchasing duplicates of each. In total I spent more than a hundred and fifty gold, which I felt good about considering the haul of items. With my shopping done, we headed to the noble’s temple.

“I do not actually know how much a single gold coin is worth Dorstark.”

“We went over this before, sir. The exchange rate for coins is…”

I interrupted, “I know the value between coins, but I do not know how much any of them are really worth. How much does a person earn for various labors.”

“Oh, well, that is a bit more nuanced. Here in Orya the average town watchman makes three to four silver a month.”

“You mean, I just spent,” I paused to do the math, “around a hundred and forty years worth of watchmen salary?” I was floored.

He thought for a moment, “Yes, that is about right.”

I stopped in the middle of the street thinking about the numbers more. That was about a gold per year of wages, which meant… “Nespolan gave me more than thirteen thousand years worth of wages?”

“For town watch wages, yes, roughly. Dock workers earn less and skilled individuals typically earn more. Those who work for themselves, owning their own shops especially, earn the most of laborers.”

My family had been fortunate back home, so we never had want of anything. Family vacations abroad multiple times a year were normal growing up. My own wealth though was always quite limited and I rarely dipped into my trust. Just going off the equivalent amount of years and average income, the gold I had would be equivalent to hundreds of millions in my world.

I started walking again, thinking more about the gifts I just purchased. “Dorstark, I never asked what the value of a normal offering was to the gods.”

“That is highly subjective. Though if you intend to offer everything you bought today as tribute, it would be considered generous, even among most nobles.”

My instincts told me to stay the course and give half of it as planned; previously deciding to keep half the items purchased as mementos. The compases were both intricately decorated with images of a water goddess and Morskov, which I thought was awesome. “What would their value mean for whomever received them from the ministers later?” I wondered as we entered the outer gates to the grounds.

The building had been mostly empty of patrons during my first visit months ago. “Actually, that was my second time in the building,” I mused. Shortly after all of that though things returned to a more normal amount of traffic.

Every day some of Orya’s elite would venture into this temple for one reason or another. The public place of worship had more visitors, with a smaller building, and was typically more cramped. That had no bearing on my decision to do this here though.

One of the ministers approached shortly after we entered the building. She appeared to be of middling age with deep smile lines and a bald head, like mine had been months ago. I was momentarily jealous of her eyebrows, though mine were now about half grown.

“How may we aid you this day my child,” she inquired with a bow.

“I am not certain of how this works, actually.”

There was no frustration on her face or negativity in her demeanor. Her eyes grew wide with realization, “You are him, are you not? He who was delivered by Kuriy?” Still, she remained effusive.

“That I am. You may call me Sully.”

“Is there some guidance you seek Sully? Something that ails you perhaps?”

“Nothing like that. I would like to visit Kuriy’s shrine and pay my respects… or something,” I faltered.

“Of course,” she approved. “Please, follow me.”

She led us upstairs to the room where I had first entered this world. For whatever reason I avoided going beyond the second floor here when I had come to look around previously. It could have been that I had not been allowed to speak with the ministers until recently.

The private room with Kuriy’s shrine was immaculate, leaving no sign of the deaths, burning, or the minotaur. Last time I was here I hadn’t paid attention to god’s representation. There was so much going on that first day.

No one said anything for a while as I examined the statue, carvings, and imagery around the alcove. It seemed odd that it would be limited to the recessed space even in a separate room. I reached out to the statute but stopped abruptly, remembering their ways.

“You may touch him Sully.”

“I thought…”

“We respect personal belongings Sir Sully. The gods belong to everyone,” Dorstark informed me with a subtle hint of exasperation.

The idol wore a traveler’s cloak, a wide brimmed hat, an overly large pack, and held a walking stick. Imagery around the alcove showed winding roads, beasts of burden, long caravans, wagon trains, and ships at sea. Compared to the statue of Selev, and others, Kuriy’s seemed somehow less imposing or extravagant. There was a sense of humility to the design.

At its feet I placed the compass, telescope, sextant, a couple power bars, and the maps. “Is there anything I should say?” For good measure I placed a few gold coins next to each item as well, for travelers.

“Is there something you would like to say?” She asked in response, which helped me none at all.

“Not really,” I mumbled. Then I mulled over it for a moment before turning to her, “It is my intent that these are gifts to Kuriy, of course.” She nodded and I continued, “I have been told that they will be given to those who may benefit from them.”

“That is the truth of it.”

“Then I would like to dictate whom they would go to, if I may.”

There was pause as she thought about it before replying. “It is not typical, but there is nothing stopping you from doing so.”

“Each item shall be paired with some of the gold I am presenting to Kuriy, to aid each of these travelers. None are to be offered to nobility, anyone of means, or any resident of Orya.” That seemed like a princely prize for a commoner now that I had a perspective of their value, but all of these things did.

My words flowed with confidence, “The compass and maps must be given to a lost stranger who arrives on foot. A foreigner seeking a new home shall be granted the telescope. This sextant will aid an ambitious sailor beginning his journey across the waves to become a captain. Each ration bar will provide sustenance to members of a caravan.” I may have leaned on some of my experience as a game master, flying by the seat of my pants, while rattling off the instructions.

“Any coin left should be given to newcomers seeking to make Orya their home.” Looking at each of the items, I was pleased with my instructions thus far, but had one thing to add, “Lastly, whomever is gifted the items must be told not to sell them. They can pass them on to anyone, but they can not profit from the exchange, with exception given to the coins of course.” That seemed fair to me anyway.

“It shall all be as you will it, Sully. Is there anything else?”

I sat on the floor, emptied my satchel, and picked up the compass first. “This will take some time for me to finish, so you are both free to leave if you would prefer,” I said to her and Dorstark.

Neither moved, so I picked up the first of the hand engraving tools and got to work. This idea occurred to me just before we left, but it felt like the best way to make these items personal. I wanted to carve my initials, SIR, into each of them at least. It took time to work them into the design of the compass without hurting the aesthetic, but it wasn’t that bad.

The other two items were done significantly faster by comparison. Together they had taken less than half an hour, so I picked up the first gold coin and set about defacing some currency. At one point Dorstark asked why I was doing this and I shrugged, not sure really. It didn’t feel like I was being guided by some divine mandate, I just wanted to do it - so I did.

Finally the last coin was set in a pile with the rest, which took more than an hour altogether. I wanted to engrave more, but didn’t want to put up more coins. This endeavor was expensive enough already. I looked over the compass again, finding a small area that appeared big enough for a few tiny characters if I used a jeweler's loupe.

Despite being smaller, these took just as long as my initials on the compass. I didn’t have anything in mind when I started, but quickly set about carving the symbols that I suspected were responsible for protecting my bags and grimoire. After that, I did the same to the other items - not including the coins. These runes were much larger and deeper, making them rather conspicuous.

There was still more space on the telescope and sextant, so I kept at it. Again, I didn’t really have a plan or any idea what the hell I was doing. I got lost in the work and then it was done. Not like I was in a trance or anything, just unfocused from the rest of the world and doing something I loved to do.

Only after I finished did it occur to me that I could have possibly blown myself up, I think. With my back to the others still, I pulled out my phone and took pictures of everything so I could write about it later.

My body popped and I groaned as I stood up. “Done,” I announced… to an empty room. Looking at the gifts one last time I had to smile. Hopefully they did something awesome or at least looked cool while helping their future owners. Either way, I was proud.

The four guards dutifully stood outside the room waiting for me. One of them informed me that Dorstark had returned to the castle only recently and sent another to fetch the minister, as she had requested of them. “Is there a femanine form of minister?” I pondered

She returned minutes later. “You are finished then?”

“I am, and hope that Kuriy approves.”

A genuine smile lit her face, “Though I cannot speak directly for the gods, I assure you that yours is a fine offering indeed.”

“Should I write down the instructions?” I asked, not realizing at first how condescending it sounded.

“I left shortly after you began your work to do just that, as well as informing our High Minister.”

“I had not realized either of you left until I finished actually.”

“You did seem rather absorbed in the task each time I returned to see if you were finished.”

“Thank you for your patience.”

She assured me that thanks are not required, but were appreciated nonetheless. My rumbling belly encouraged me to wrap it up and head back to the castle, which I did, content that another quest could be checked off the list.