《Ashes of Hell》Chapter 4 - Academy of the forgotten scholars - Part 1
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Nestor's footsteps echoed through the hall, as he was taking wide strides in the direction Mr.Domino pointed him at.
Along the way, his face kept grimacing more and more. The reason was the place starting to resemble a haunted psychiatric hospital.
'The screams already started to give me shivers, yet seeing their actual source had me truly terrified.'
A few meters on his left, Nestor had witnessed a person die in an extremely gruesome way. The man had dug out his own eyes, madly screaming from the pain.
' He kept shouting something about his eyes as if he had stared directly at the sun for far too long.'
Nestor stood there, on the edge of the bloodied bed and the now lifeless body. The poor guy probably died of blood loss, while thinking so Nestor noticed something strange coming out of the body.
A small streak of soft blue light dashed towards the ceiling, it was fast, but not so much for Nestor to notice the sullen face of the dead man attached to the blob of light.
Their little lips kept moving as if to leave behind a sort of message for Nestor.
'No sound is coming. Could I be hallucinating? Or could the principles of this place be different from Earth?'
Soon after, the nearest statue got to life all of a sudden, with incredible speed picked up the body and made it disappear. Without much delay, it then went back to its original spot, not moving ever again.
Such unpredictable and inexplicable events threatened the knowledge and principles that had been taught to Nestor in his previous life.
'I am already doubting Earth being the center of the universe, it would be plausible for our studies regarding the rules of nature to be incorrect.
I have to keep my thoughts extremely plastic if I want to survive in such a foreign environment. This doesn't mean I have to instantly believe whatever information I receive.
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I have decided! I'll just have to rack my brain and think if everything I've been told adheres to logic. Even better if I could have something to write my notes on. Socrates, I'll make you proud.'
Nestor had always been fond of the greek and roman cultures. In particular, he admired their scholars and strategists, even more, he enjoyed reading Homer's two most famous epic poems.
He, in truth, preferred such narratives as opposed to the more boorish ones provided by the church. to be noted is that the abbot made him transcribe the old testament perhaps too many times.
However, he would have never dared to openly admit such blasphemy.
Also, only now, in the few hours he had already spent traveling this ever so silent hall, had he started doubting his life. Inside the monastery, he was the freest monk, as if he were being given preferential treatment.
He wasn't even being assigned a specific role, Nestor did a bit of everything from gardening to working in the infirmary or even managing the library.
The only thing he had seriously pondered upon in the past, was him being able to leave the monastery a lot more frequently than his brothers.
' They had been plotting this from the start Huh? How could they simply raise an orphan baby with the plague still in the process of dying out...
I have been so naive!'
Nestor stopped in his tracks, crouched, and pressed his hands over his head on the verge of plucking out his hair to placate his hunger.
Finally, he slammed his head on the ground a few times, to make the pain obfuscate his inner rage.
Something strange was going on, as a former monk, for Nestor was practically impossible to lose himself over anger and resentment.
He wasn't an irascible person, to begin with, and that coupled with the patience that his profession demanded, plus him being a scholar, made him the embodiment of tranquility.
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'This?! How could I develop such feelings o-of hate? There must be something wrong with this new body of mine. I must hurry and get to the end of this building.'
Thus Nestor concluded that his being unable to properly control his emotions must have been a result of his rebirth.
He walked for a long time, Nestor couldn't bother to count every second to precise access how much time had passed. However, he felt that at least half a day had already passed.
Nestor felt hungry and extremely tired, also his feet were hurting from the hardness of his boots. Indeed, he had already worn a new set of clothes when he woke up previously.
He wore a comfy brown leather jacket and a pair of thick black trousers, the set together with his boots made him seem more like a mountain man than the monk he was.
It wasn't too bad, as Nestor felt that they were on point for the slightly cold temperature of the room. If not for the fact that at a certain point he had to take off his boots, the set would have been perfect.
The real problem at the moment was him risking dehydration. If not for the fact that he already died burned alive at the stake, he would have already given up halfway. Also from the start, his body was particularly well fed and hydrated, to the point that made him believe that Mr.Domino had already foreseen this situation.
Finally, he reached the end of the interminable hall. A huge gate-like arc greeted him, as it ended by touching the almost ten meters tall roof.
The gate was exquisitely chiseled all over with human skulls, skeletons, and swords of various lengths and workmanship as if someone stabbed them on the cold, red polished stone of the arc.
Also one couldn't discern where the other side of the gate led to, as a thick layer of green fog screened it completely.
While admiring the majestic structure that spanned dozens of meters wide, Nestor heard a few hurried steps closing from behind.
A tall and elongated humanoid figure outlined itself and entered Nestor's line of sight.
His legs, arms, torso, and neck were all exceptionally long as if someone had abused 'the rack' on the poor victim.
'If that were to be the case the torture machine would have killed him or left him paralyzed for life.'
As soon as the elongated human got closer, Nestor understood to have been misled by a matter of perspective.
The figure was clad in a splendid white set of knightly armor, which was also adorned with resplendent and well-polished gems. one the top of his elm sported a flashy blue crest.
The problem was on the stature of the knight, as it was heavily crouched, yet while walking it emanated an inexplicable sense of elegance, yet it still spanned almost three meters in height.
'How can he even be considered human? I have never seen such a physique among our species before. Tales of old might decipher strange myths indeed, yet I always thought of them as half-lies.
Finally, the tall figure overshadowed the dead tired Nestor. Yet as intimidating as he might have seemed, a calm and placid voice came out as a surprise.
"Greetings fellow damned. My name is Linneo, pleased to make your acquaintance."
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