Chapter 11

Of language, history, and single-mindedness

The child orders. “Follow me!” And I find myself obeying as if it were the most natural thing to do.

The weak and servile being from earlier is no more, it exudes the authority suitable to one who has been leading others for over a thousand years. We head to the door and my undead senses detect people suddenly backing away to form two orderly lines.

As soon as we come into view, the knights – or are they guards? I am still confused about the two – make a strange but imposing salute. Without addressing anyone, in particular, the Child orders, “Tell the curator I need the royal archives opened.”

The individual with the most decorated armor answers. "By your will, Ma’am.” Then signal someone else to do it.

I ask. “Why did he answer if it is to send someone else?” But receive no answer.

The door to the archives is massive, but there is a sense of decorum to it. Two great Koroks in armor stands on each side and an elf between them with some keys in hand. The room is full of books; local or foreign history, treaties of mathematics, (law), (civil engineering), (science), geography and even multilingual dictionaries. Even though most titles are written in the Language, there are many words I do not understand.

The sight of all these books reminds me of something that has been bothering me for a while, “Is there a reason why the language is not used by everyone?”

The curator answers happily, “That was the case in the early days, but as the Queendom expanded, the common people who lived away from the capital developed (dialects) and the shift accelerated even more after we elves joined. The common language is based on the most prominent of these (dialects) which has integrated elements from elvish and (imperial) over the years.”

(Dialect), (imperial)? Sadly, I am not given a chance to ask as the Queen speaks first.

“We all know how much you love your long-winded history lessons curator, but we don’t have time for them!”

We have reached a stairway surrounded by thick metal bars, and as he opens the wire-mesh door, the old elf offers an apology. “I beg your pardon, my Queen. It is a great fault of mine to lose myself in what I love most.” He then turns to address me. “If you want to continue our discussion later, then, by all means, come find me.”

The curator stays upstairs; even he cannot enter this place without permission. Down the flight of stairs stands another massive door, but this one is embedded with an unusual tool such as when the Queen places its hand on a plaque, it opens by itself without a sound.

We enter a small corridor with doors at each end and the one behind us close as it opened; on its own. We stay confined for a minute or so, I know something is going on because there are strange sounds and unnatural airflow, but I cannot say what exactly, only that when it finally stops, the second door opens.

The new room has no natural lighting and is only about half as big as the one upstairs, but is equipped with a wealth of Enchants to ensure the preservation of the many books, parchment, and rolls of papers neatly stocked inside.

“Air control, humidity control, temperature control… and even on to kill small organisms? Is it even safe to be there?”

“For us, it is.”

She is right, neither of us is technically alive, and the quality of the air is probably the least of our concerns.

It takes one of seven sealed boxes and presents it to me. “Here are my siblings. Can you save them?”

The box, like the other six, contains a child. Five of them still have their bodies, but the last two only retain their cores. There are many more differences though, core size, circuit complexity, not two of them are the same. If I had to say, the only commonality would be the absence of mana circulating in the core.

The two oldest are not that different from what I learned, albeit in the same way as a young child’s drawing and a master’s sketch are the same. In a sense, they are a lucky break for me; they are the perfect example of what I have learned, and a great platform to get to understand the rest.

I need all the help I can get; the others are inscribed in a way I have never heard of before: a circuit with branching paths. Honestly, even if they appear undamaged to me, I cannot even say it is for sure.

About the organic cores now. The sum of my knowledge about them would be that they existed and to make things worse, they are masterpieces from one of the greatest geniuses who ever worked in the field.

I tell as I see it. “The last two, they appear undamaged but… also incomplete.”

“Is there something wrong with them?”

“Yes… No… I do not know: I cannot find the expected circuits but there is no trace of damage.”

To begin with, I do not understand how a spell, no matter how complex, can result in a sentient being like the Queen… Although, admittingly, I do not understand the inner workings of the living, nor unliving for that matter.

“As far as I can tell, there is no damage to the bodies and the cores, but I will need to create some tools to confirm this with a more detailed analysis. As it stands, I am confident that I can restart the two eldest, but for the other three who still have their bodies, I make no promise.”

“What about the last two?”

“They need new bodies. I do not even know where to start.”

I suspect there is a place where this information might still exist, not even a genius could have created something this complex without first laying down some designs and blueprints and where else to store them than in the vault?

“Is there nothing you can do?” I can feel the Queen’s agitation through its words.

“Even I find the information I need, there is still a bigger problem: they have been inactive for too long, it is highly probable that their memories are gone. Were I to restart them, they would not be the same.”

“So, it really was so? This one... I suspected it might be the case, it has been so long.”

I? Why did it use the female form of the pronoun.

“Even for the oldest, restarting them will require a lot of mana...”

It interjects. “This one did its best, many times!”

“... and a specific method of activation. For the newer, it is even more complicated; the magic circuits branch into subparts, and each subpart into even more. This is a new kind of magecraft, probably something created by your maker for this sole purpose.”

“You may be right, we were still new when the cataclysm happened.” It nods gravely. “Ask whatever you resource need and we will make sure you get it.”

“Thank you very much. First I will need to figure the proper procedure., I will need my own workshop and full access to this place.”

“Is that all?”

“For the moment. Your people do not use crystals, it will be faster to get what I need from home.”

“I see.” It points at a panel on the wall. “Please touch this.”

I do as indicated, and it puts its hand over mine. I feel both our mana flow into the artifact for a few seconds and then she explains. “I gave you full access to this room, but you will still need to ask the curator until we make you a new set of keys.” It notices my interest in the mechanism. “Whether they can use magic or not, every individual has a specific mana pattern, this tool is made to reads, preserve and recognize these patterns and only open to those who have my permission.”

Did the Vault have something similar? Then again, it might have been a special key… whatever, we will cross that bridge when we get there.

We get back upstairs and the child calls the elf, “Custodian, you are to grant him me full access at any time he desires.”

“As you wish your majesty!”

While it makes the arrangements, the Queen entrusts me to a small Korok in decorated clothing. The little one shows me around the place; both so I can know what is what but also to make sure I am properly recognized as a guest of honor.

Among the places we visited, are my new living quarters, situated only a few rooms away from the Queen’s own. It is not that I am not thankful for the consideration, but… I try to explain. “I am grateful for the intention, but I have no need for sleep. I only need the workshop and nothing else.”

The small Korok answers showing some teeth. “You might think that at the moment, but I am sure you’ll enjoy having some privacy at times.”

It is not wrong as I have a lot of reading to do, and a clustered workshop might not be the most suitable place.

A courier whispers something to his ear, and it sighs. “A workshop has been arranged, but… how should I say… the people at the department of magic aren’t bad, but they tend to be a bit single-minded. I fear that even with the full authority of the Queen, you will still face some minor inconveniences.”

Said department is situated in a giant building mostly composed of workshops, classrooms and storage. The one in charge, a very old elf bearing the title of Master, gives me all sorts of extraneous information about the place that I instantly forget, and show me to my new workshop. I find the place surrounded by youngsters of various species, and the Master explains, “These students are our greatest achievers, one of them would have been granted his own workshop if it weren’t for you cutting into the line.”

One of them screams. (“You’re the one, right? Duel me and I’ll show you who’s the most deserving!”)

I ask the master. ”What does it want?”

“A duel, to determine the new owner of the workshop.”

“This is pointless, combat does not reflect a searcher’s ability.”

The old elf whispers, “Workshops are rare and few, even if it has no value in the grand schemes of things, the youngsters cannot help but compete in a pointless duel over them.” He turns toward them and below. (“Fools, the Queen herself tasked him with important matters, stop wasting everyone’s time and go back to your study!”)

But the fool is relentless. (“Whatever that guy is doing is not as important as I do! If the Queen had been properly informed, she’d have chosen me over him! En garde!”)

The Korok was right, those people are strange… I invert the gravity with a single Word, and my opponent falls straight to the ceiling. When I feel like he has spent enough time there, I interrupt the spell then ask the mass sprawl on the ground. “Are we good, now?”

I expected it would be over with this, but I could not have been more wrong; the audience swarms me, both physically and with questions.

(“What was that?”)

(“How did you do this?”)

(“Please, teach us.”)

Even the fool gets back up to limp towards me begging. (“Ouch, how did you do that? Tell me how you did it! Even the great me is impressed!”)

I am started to feel afraid; what is wrong with them? Are my days going to be like that from now on?

I scream. “Calm down! Someone fetches me a pen and paper… and please give me some room.”

The master already had both on its person and quickly handed them to me. I write the Word of Power, but I also underline the many dangers that come with manipulating gravity, which is even more necessary for these people who need complex spells to achieve the simplest things.

Looking at their feverish eyes, I know my warnings will get ignored, so I give it to the Master instead. “The control of gravity comes with many risks. I would advise leaving their instruction to more experimented and above all more cautious people.”

I drop the paper in his hand, recover the enchanted key, and enter the workshop in a hurry. At the sound of the door closing being me and the following silence hearten me. I am glad I got a room in the castle, safe from them. It was not very nice of me to trick the old elf, but as they are his people, he should be the one to deal with their madness.

I take a quick look at the place to see what it lacks, then head out to fetch my stuff under the cover of invisibility. But even with some concealment spells, the front door is not an option, which is why I exit the room through a window and close it behind me.

On the way to the city, a nice surprise awaits a column of greater golems walking down the mountain path with arms full of quartz, too much to carry on my own. I make myself a new rucksack, the other one is in my at the palace and already full of materials. Over the course of the day, I gather my books, enchanted tools, magic organs, crystals, and all the golem cores save two.

<><><>

It has only been a few hours since I started working when a strangely dressed individual open the door - the locked door - to tell me politely but firmly. “We are closing in ten minutes, sir.”

“Do not mind me I have work to do.”

“I am sorry, sir, but you cannot stay after opening hours.”

“Why is that? It is not like I need to sleep.”

“Those are the rule sir; no one is to stay after dark.”

“This is outrageous! I will have you know that…”

I got kicked out?! They were so polite about it that it just kind of happened but... Oh well, I might as well head to the castle and sort my stuff.

This place is a labyrinth, that even my undead’s senses cannot make sense of: there just does not seem to have a way to reach the upper level. Rather than stay lost forever, I ask someone to guide me, and it turns out there are only a few way ups, all set in remote locations and well guarded.

Why? Because invisibility is a thing and a lot of important people reside up there. I wonder if the fact I live here means I too am an important person, now? I sure hope not, I already have enough troubles on my plate.

The bed in my room has been changed to a new one that is longer than me, and almost as wide. Frankly, the sleepless monster that I have become has no use for it and it makes me feel sorry for the poor souls who had to carry this monstrosity to my room, enough that I feel obligated to lie on it to I read.

Learning a new language is not like memorizing words and conjugation from a dictionary; concepts and expressions cannot always be translated, and even when they can, there is a need to establish the context.

For example, take the word (crime): my dictionary explains that it is an (offense) punishable by (law). Very helpful, but what is an (offense)? It is a breach of the (law)! What is the (law)? It is a set of rules, rules are (regulations) and an ‘unpleasant’ (regulation) is an ‘unpleasant’ (law), which means a set of rules maintained by an (authority)!

This is an ‘unpleasant’ endless circle! The dictionary keeps on listing synonym but never broach on the concept behind the words, it assumes one already knows the basics! It is like telling a blind man that darkness is the absence of light only to tell him that light is the absence of darkness! It ‘unpleasantly’ solves nothing!

I better ask the curator tomorrow, he seemed interested in languages... that and I need books, after all, I have almost two millennia to catch up with.

“If you cannot understand something, look for its origin.” Said the curator, and this is an excellent piece of advice. But even with his expertise, there are still many strange and foreign concepts, and it will take a lot of history books to make sense of them.

I stifle a yawn. My body is not physically capable of yawning, but that is how the elf long discourses managed to tire me. It cannot be helped, I will skip work and read my dictionaries.

<><><>

Nine days to complete my prototype. It should have taken a lot less, had it not been for those bullies kicking me out of my workshop night after night. What are they? Even the Master cannot stop them!

Whatever, this is the first step to understanding the spells laid by my predecessor. Soon enough, I will acquire the knowledge and tools to activate her legacy (without damaging it).

I leave the workshop with the Enchant under my arm and... ‘Maximum unpleasantness’, the ravenous scholars are here, watching my every move. Too late to resort to invisibility, all I can do is weather the assault!

“It’s an artifact, right?”

“Did you make it?”

“Did you?”

“Sir, make me your apprentice! I’m a hard worker. I swear you won’t regret it.”

I run back to my workroom and bring out the last remaining of my engraving tools; the first I gave to the owner of the shop, and the second to the Master, but the staff has yet to get the hang of it … That is it! The shop owner, he will be my unwilling sacrifice! He deserves it as he cooperated with the not-so-nice-after-all great Korok to trick me.

I get back, and put the tool on a table, “I do not have the time to teach you myself, but in this city, there is another person adept this type of Enchant. You will find him at this address...” I write the name of the shop and the street then use invisibility and gravity to hide on the ceiling.

I wonder if I should use invisibility all the time, or maybe remove my helmet and scare them off. This last thought gives me a terrifying vision of a probable future where I am surrounded by scholars bent on studying me.

“Definitely not.”