Chapter 22: Journal |
It is rare that a man in the Morrow family is born without purpose. I found mine the first time I visited the Union city of Arcthiss and saw the extent of what magic could do. From then on I knew it was the only thing that mattered.
Deciphered Journal of Victor Morrow
Solomon worked the cipher carefully. He’d kept his notes on it and one of his uncle’s journals, that he’d guessed was the first of them based on where it had been in the stack and the general formatting of it. He worked until he had the first paragraph completed and read through it.
Entry 1:
Due to the nature of the rituals and magics which I intend to explore, I must make a record of who I am, and what I have done. Much of what I will experiment with can have a damaging effect on the mind. You can so easily lose chunks of yourself, of your mind. By writing down my history I hope to fortify my mind and preserve a core of myself in the event part of me is lost.
Solomon smiled. He was right. The timeline they’d given for the Hermit’s last appearance at the Arcana meeting, the mentions of his mana being similar, and the statue taking him to the meeting in the first place. He read the paragraph again, trying to determine if he’d made any mistakes, but there was no way an incorrect deciphering could’ve come up with that same kind of clarity. He frowned, wondering exactly what kind of spells his uncle had been talking about. He also wondered how his uncle had been so certain no one would attempt to use his hermit moniker to decipher his journal. The Arcana meetings seemed anonymous, but given what he’d seen of his uncle so far he didn’t seem the type to trust appearances. Death had explicitly stated that she could kill him and he believed her. That meant that the anonymity had to be limited.
Too excited to go back to sleep, he spent the rest of the morning deciphering his Uncle’s journal. It was slow, tedious work, but he knew there would be answers within it. When the light was coming through his window clearly he reviewed what he’d deciphered, paying close attention to anything that would be immediately helpful. A lot of it was focused on how he’d developed his interest in magic and what had led him to directly seeking it out. That was interesting, but not exactly what he’d been looking for. A few passages stood out to him.
Entry 5:
I knew I was not the only one without magic who was seeking it. The allure of that kind of power and knowledge is too much to let the Union keep one from it. I found myself joining a number of esoteric brotherhoods and lodges. Some of them seemed to have found genuine power of a kind, such as enchanted objects, or demonic pacts, things that didn’t necessarily require your own mana to access. Most of these turned out to be dead ends though, and many were raided by the Union. I didn’t manage to find any truly useful groups until I came across the unnamed and the Arcana, but that didn’t happen until years later.
Entry 9:
It had taken some serious time and effort to acquire my first real spellbook. I had to work through dealers, spend enormous amounts of my stipend, and risk a few very dangerous meetings with a Union scholar that owed too much in gambling debt. It allowed me to obtain Basic Spells and Foundational Magics. A lot of the information within was along the lines of what I’d learned from hedge mages I’d discovered, but far more precisely detailed. It gave me an excellent framework from which to develop the rest of my understanding. I remember hiding it in a specially made safe sealed under my floorboards. Of course, that hiding place became unnecessary after I found the Repository.
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Solomon frowned. What was the Repository? He carefully wrote down the word when ciphered, reviewing what it looked like, then he looked at the overall list of words he’d prepared. As much as he’d like to be deliberate and go through each journal one at a time, he needed to be able to offer at least one spell to the Arcana within a week. He also needed to prioritize any information that would be immediately useful. He did find it interesting that two of the first things his uncle had discovered in his search, Volk Magic and Basic Spells and Foundational Magics were what he had found as well. It likely wasn’t coincidence, perhaps his Uncle had kept them around for sentimentality’s sake.
There was a knock on the door. He carefully took all of his work materials and put them back into his desk before responding to it.
“You may enter.”
Melissa entered, wearing her usual formal black suit.
“Good morning Lord Morrow. Breakfast is on its way, but you wanted me to remind you that you have your planned lunch with Dame Pryor this afternoon.”
Solomon nodded. “Thank you Melissa. Has Duncan gone to pick up the temporary workers?”
“Yes lord.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
She bowed before pausing.
“That’s a good color on you sir. I favor the purple, but it’s good to have some variety.”
Solomon frowned, looking down. He was wearing one of his uncle’s green robes. He must’ve grabbed it by mistake.
“Thank you. I’m thinking of having Felicity take in some of my Uncle’s old garments. Better than them sitting unused.”
“I’ll get her started today.”
Solomon nodded, dismissing her, and waited at his desk until his breakfast arrived. He thanked Claire and took his time eating. He wanted to run straight into the secret chamber in the library and start to immediately decode the pile of journals there, but had skipped the majority of his sleep and needed at least the energy a good meal could provide to get through the day. Aside from the meeting with Dame Pryor he also expected to receive a batch of letters that day and he needed to make sure things went smoothly with the hired hands.
That said, he wasn’t going to ignore what was waiting for him. After he was done eating he made his way to the library, opened the secret passage and went down to where a god rotted and knowledge awaited him.
He looked once again at the corpse sitting in the binding circle, still bound by chains. It hadn’t decomposed at all. Perhaps it was due to the conditions of the sealed room, but he assumed the answer was more mystical in nature. He placed the sheet of keywords he’d written out on the desk next to the journals and began scanning them one page at a time. Whenever he found a corresponding word, he would tear off a piece of blank paper to mark the page. He managed to get through two of the journals before he decided he’d need to check on things outside the secret chamber. He approached the exit door, listening carefully for a few moments before activating the passage. He thanked the armor as it moved to the side for him to pass and was making his way to the atrium when he heard some commotion.
He rushed forward where he found an elf wounded and bleeding out on the couch. He blinked and the scene changed to a man he recognized as one of the temporary hires laid out on a couch and breathing heavily. Poth was standing over him, attempting to cool him off by waving his hands rapidly in front of his face.
“What happened?” asked Solomon as he moved closer.
“We were weeding the northern garden and he collapsed. Think he worked himself a bit too hard.”
Solomon turned to see the maid Emery standing nearby.
“Go get a pitcher of water,” he said and she moved immediately toward the kitchen.
Before she was back the man opened his eyes for a moment. They looked left and right and when they saw Solomon they widened. He stood up quickly and nearly fell over again, but Poth kept him on his feet.
“I’m sorry lord. I’ll get back to work right now.”
Solomon gently pushed the man back down onto the couch with his walking stick.
“Sit,” he said. “I’m having some water brought. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine sir. Just fine. Missed a few meals yesterday.”
Emery reappeared with the pitcher of water and an already filled cup. She handed it to the man, but he didn’t drink until Solomon insisted.
While he was drinking Solomon turned to Emery. “Have Claire prepare a simple meal for this man as well as all the others here today. Sandwiches, crackers, just something to get them going. From here on we’ll feed them before they start work.”
The man coughed on his water. “Sir. I’d rather not. I can’t afford what you’d feed me being taken from my pay.”
“It’s free. I can’t expect good work from you on an empty stomach. You sit here and finish that water.” He turned to Poth. “Go out to the fields and have the others break for a meal. They can return to work after. Reassure them that it won’t affect their pay.”
Poth nodded and went out the front door to head back to the garden.
Solomon gave one last nod to the man before he went to find Melissa. He hadn’t anticipated that they’d be unwell, but he supposed he himself would have some trouble working in the garden all day and he at least had three meals a day. He wouldn’t have those working for him doing so on an empty stomach though, besides which this was yet another opportunity to improve his image with the locals.
