Chapter 27 #2
“No more Transcriptions here since the dragon, thankfully. But, who knows what other little things we’ve missed?”
A shudder ran down Lia’s spine. Who knows what else could be lurking on Earth, unbeknownst to the general population, for the last three years since ImaginX was established?
Order secrets or not, Lia was disconcerted to hear they weren’t taking their job to the level of care she would have expected.
One would think they’d be on the hunt. Even Kayce wore a disappointed frown.
She knew he’d be searching in a heartbeat if they weren’t otherwise occupied.
Adrian looked between them, twisting his hands like he debated something before finally waving them forward. “Come this way. I can show you the last records he was going through.”
Lia thanked him, her and Kayce following Adrian to the backroom. It seemed like a storage closet one would find in a bookshop, but like her papa’s study, it had a secret. Adrian went to a box of dusting cloths, revealing a hidden door.
“Clever,” Lia complimented. Adrian shot her a small smile before ushering them inside.
A matrix of cubes on one wall held reams of paper, scrolls that ranged from a heavy brown tone to pale yellow.
The space was twice the size of her papa’s secret study, leather tomes filling most of the ceiling-high shelves.
Adrian moved with long strides, his narrow fingers darting for various scrolls and parchments and gathering them in his arms.
“Ever think of going digital?” Lia asked, noting an easel displaying spherical maps in a far more organized fashion than her papa’s table had. “Save space, not to mention safer from damage.”
And theft, she thought.
Adrian paled, the words apparently blasphemous. “These relics are treasures of our past! I would never defile them in such a manner.” Shaking his head, he lowered the papers onto a cleared desk. “Most of these are on loan from the Celestium Librus, anyway.”
“The Celest—what?” Lia asked, Kayce’s frown echoing her confusion.
“The Celestium Librus Sphere. It’s essentially a library for the Order, but only the record keepers and several leaders can check texts out. These are centuries old, predating even the Greek Empire.”
Already Lia was itching to go. She was always most content when lost in the stacks, time disappearing. Expectations ebbing away.
As though sensing the eagerness bubbling inside her, Kayce patted her head. “Simmer down. Maybe we can get you that special membership.”
She glowered while Adrian shook his head. “Those are highly improbable to get, only given out in special circumstances. The training alone to handle these records outside of the sphere—”
Kayce raised a brow. “It was a joke.”
Adrian flushed at the missed social cue. Lia felt a flare of sympathy, and trying to spare him the embarrassment, she started to sift through the pages. “Papa was reading these?”
“Yes, he’d gotten that special permission I mentioned. He returned most of them about a week before his passing. Claimed it was a dead-end.”
“That’s a bit odd, no?” Kayce questioned. “The timing? Perhaps he found something he did not want anyone else noticing.”
Subtle. Lia forced herself not to react.
The Flameheart swallowed noticeably, his fair skin turning sallow. “You say it like his death was not an accident, but measured.”
Lia closed her eyes, smothering a groan. There was no taking back those words, the inference to be made. Her mom would throttle Kayce if Lia didn’t do it first.
Adrian watched them from behind his thick glasses as the silence lengthened. “You do suspect foul play.”
“We do,” Lia admitted after a weighted breath. “He called my mom about some proof before he died. There are also inconsistencies with his accident. And his study was trashed after. We think he found something about how Seekers are thinning the barriers.”
So much for keeping this to themselves.
Adrian placed a hand on the table, swaying slightly. “This…this is significant.”
It was a bit of an understatement, but Lia was nervous the poor man was going to drop any second.
Adrian remained standing, looking back at the papers with clear eyes. “Your theory makes sense. Especially when aligned with these. I’d only thought he was looking into this for curiosity’s sake. More of a treasure hunt of fun than anything substantial.”
After shuffling through several pages, Adrian found a vellum one, far older than the rest. There were several images in reds and browns depicting an old book, rays of light pouring out. In one, the book was torn into three pieces: two halves and the spine.
The words were in Latin.
“I can’t read this,” Lia said lamely.
“Julian didn’t insist you take Latin in school?” Adrian said, shock coloring his words.
“Mom wanted me to learn Spanish.” It had been more of a fight than it should have been, until Lia acquiesced to appease her. Now, it made much more sense. Latin was the Order’s language—a world Mom had wanted Lia as far from as possible.
Adrian shrugged, summarizing the text. “It’s a myth, even to us. Most of our records are from after the First Rift, and having been copied several times over, details were lost. Only a few recall the Initiis.”
“Your mother never mentioned that,” Kayce said.
“She wouldn’t have. Many Flamehearts don’t believe it exists, especially in recent years,” Adrian said. “But this record from one of the earlier Flamehearts tells of a book used to create all there was. That the Devourer stole it to create his world, then tear the veil.”
Lia’s eyes widened, recalling the story. “And then he was banished.”
“Precisely.”
“But what happened to this book?” Kayce asked, pointing to the image.
“According to this source, the process ripped the Initiis into three pieces,” Adrian replied, adopting the tone of a lecturer before a class.
“Two were lost during the First Rift. But some records mention another guardian used the remaining piece to create the Flamehearts before hiding it. There’s also a theory that the piece fragmented even further, flying into the nearest hosts—the ember we all possess.
Another yet is that it was the seal on the First Rift entirely—see, so many stories, yet none of us know the right one.
Hence, why many believe the Book of Beginnings simply met its end.
Or that even this mighty tome was pure fable. The only one, ironically.”
It made sense. A tool used to create new life; a tool used to tear down the fabric of the universe. It was dangerous, powerful.
A darkness coming, Fee had told them. Perhaps this was it.
Lia ran a hand through her curls, working out several knots while speaking her thoughts aloud. “If Papa found this, could he have theorized that a piece of the Initiis is being used to reopen the First Rift?”
“If this thing is even real, it was lost several times over,” Kayce countered. “How would the Seekers find it when they can’t even walk the Emperium freely?”
Breathing a sigh through her nose, Lia glared at the page in demand of answers. None availed themselves.
Adrian shifted. “If you believe Seekers killed Julian shortly after coming across this information,” he hedged, “perhaps there is more validity here than anyone thought.”
“He would have tried to locate this book himself,” Lia surmised. “To prove it exists, but also to prove that the Seekers managed to get their hands on a piece. Maybe even to protect it from them.”
“We should look through his study again,” Kayce said. “But later. Terranth is expecting us for training.”
She wanted to rush over to the old Victorian home now, to find any scrap or sticky note mentioning the Initiis. But she wasn’t about to stand up Terranth. He would make her run for the infraction, and she was still not a fan of cardio.
She caught Adrian’s eye. “Please keep this between us, okay? I’ll tell my mom, see what she thinks.”
The Flameheart nodded, walking them out to the shop. “Julian was smart. He wouldn’t have left such information where you or his daughter couldn’t find it.”
The thought should have comforted Lia, but all it did was resurrect the tide inside her—a reminder that her papa was no longer there.