Chapter Thirty #3
The page was worn and brown, the edges frayed from centuries of handling.
A richly decorated border of intricate vines and flowers framed the text.
Tiny gold leaf accents caught the dim light of the library, glinting like secrets waiting to be revealed.
The letters were ornate, each stroke deliberate and precise, evoking the hand of a scribe who had spent countless hours crafting this page.
“It’s amazing,” Juliette whispered as she read a passage where the book had been left open. “Well, apart from the bits of instruction to perform dastardly deeds. But the history before us ... it’s incredible.”
She gently turned the pages, flicking back through Britain’s past. Isla saw entries and illustrations that mentioned the Great Fire of London, the Plague, the Gunpowder Plot, and even the War of the Roses.
Each event was accompanied by what appeared to be illustrations and instructions for agents to influence outcomes, though the language changed from modern English to an older, forgotten tongue, rich with antiquated words and turns of phrase.
“Is this ... are these ...?” Andrew’s voice faltered, as if he were struggling to articulate what he was realizing.
“I’ve always believed the history books about how these events unfolded.
But this ... this book suggests that Aetherians had a hand in shaping these tragedies, guided and paid to bring devastation across the nation. ”
Edmund looked on in horror as he realized how foul play had caused so much suffering for money.
“Can you read all of that, Juliette?” Isla asked, knowing her friend had studied Britain’s older languages.
Juliette leaned closer, her eyes scanning and carefully turning the pages.
“Some of it, yes. The handwriting shifts as the centuries pass—this at the beginning of the book is Brittonic Celtic with a Latin influence. Before English existed, the people of Britain spoke Celtic languages.” Juliette traced the faded ink, her face awed by the history before her.
“Only fragments of this remain readable to us.”
She turned more pages. “When the Romans conquered much of Britain, Latin became the language of government and trade, mostly used by the upper class. Most ordinary Britons were bilingual—Celtic and some Latin. It’s a shame we’ve forgotten such beautiful languages.”
Andrew leaned closer, murmuring, “I can barely make out half the letters ... it’s amazing anyone could read this at all.”
“It is a challenge,” Juliette said. “When the Romans withdrew, Latin lingered mostly in the church and learned circles, but then Germanic tribes—the Anglo-Saxons, Jutes, and later the Danes—invaded and settled. They brought their own West Germanic dialects. You can see here how these blended into Old English, also called Anglo-Saxon.”
“It’s fascinating that language itself evolves like a living thing,” Isla commented.
“Quite remarkable, isn’t it?” Juliette replied before moving on.
“The Norman Conquest changed everything. The elite spoke French, the church still used Latin, and the common people spoke English—but all three languages blended. English grammar simplified, and vocabulary exploded with French and Latin loanwords.”
She turned a few pages. “Then comes Early Modern English. The Renaissance revived interest in classical Latin and Greek, bringing thousands of new words through scholarship, science, and literature. The printing press standardized grammar. Shakespeare’s English belongs here—still poetic and flexible, but recognizably modern. That I can read with ease.”
Edmund nodded, impressed. “And after that, modern English appears?”
“Yes,” Juliette said. “By then, grammar and spelling were standardized, dictionaries were published, and English spread globally through colonization, trade, and science.”
Her gaze softened as she studied the parchment. “It’s remarkable that these pages survived. The preservation is incredible—I’d wager a Terra had something to do with it.”
Andrew leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the page. “So, who’s writing in the book?
“It seems, “Edmund said, “at least in these modern entries, only a few select people have added instructions. Here at the end, I can see three distinct sets of handwriting. It appears that, in recent years, only three people have been giving out directives.”
“Whoever is writing in it is clever,” Andrew said, frowning at the pages. “The targets’ names are listed, but there’s not a single clue about who is actually carrying out the crimes. We can see who they’re after, but not who’s behind it.”
“It is a clever system,” Edmund said. “It seems the top organizers issue instructions to intermediaries, who never see their faces and receive the information only in writing. These intermediaries then pass the orders along to their subordinates. Everyone works in secret, behind closed doors, so if one is caught, they can never reveal the others.”
Juliette gently laid her pointer finger on part of the script.
“At least we now have a name. It states that this is the property of The Ossa Arcana.”
“What does that mean?” Isla asked.
“Oh, do I know something you don’t?” Juliette asked, looking delighted as she glanced between Andrew and Isla. Beaming when they didn’t answer, she said, “It’s Latin for ‘secret bones’ or ‘hidden skeletons.’”
“So now we know the name of this criminal network,” Edmund grumbled.
“It also says that this book is to be handed down from generation to generation,” Juliette continued, her finger tracing the ornate script.
“A reminder that one needn’t be Fated to have power.
Words themselves carry power.” She huffed.
“Well ... perhaps they are criminals, but clever ones. I have to agree with them—words do hold incredible power.”
“What else does it say?” Isla asked, leaning closer.
“The secrets within these pages will lead future generations to wealth and prestige far beyond what ordinary people could achieve,” Juliette read.
“Through this knowledge, they may manipulate the world, indulging in its pleasures, living a single lifetime unconstrained by the bounds that govern ordinary lives. They may not return to live again as the Fated do, but in a single lifetime, they will live far beyond the means of those who allow love to bind them. Those who let attachment weaken their ambitions will never experience true power over others without restraint.”
“Are these the people who wanted me to join them?” Isla asked, horrified.
Juliette shuddered. “I don’t know—but a life without love?
How tragic!” She flicked through to the most recent pages again.
“It’s not just instructions for orchestrating these tragedies—they also contain secrets about powerful leaders, lists of key players to bribe, and methods to manipulate influence.
It even has notes on our current leaders.
The prime minister’s name is here, along with the man you mentioned, Edmund—the government official who walked away from his job. He was manipulated to stop working.”
Isla saw Edmund’s jaw bulge as he took in the implications and the widespread power this group had.
“It doesn’t mention the attack in the corridor that first night you received your Sigil mark or the swimming pool incident,” Juliette said, scanning the page. “But it does reference Ray—and an order to eliminate both him and anyone connected to his work. It also details the kidnapping.”
Isla felt Andrew’s arm wind protectively around her as Juliette recounted each event.
“It’s a pity there are no names,” Andrew said, his tone tight. “Still, this links Ray’s murder and the kidnapping. Once we uncover who’s behind it, we’ll see them brought to justice.”
“I’m torn,” Edmund said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I want to take this book as evidence—and then destroy it. But part of me wonders if leaving it here could work to our advantage. They might continue passing instructions, and we could intercept them to prevent further disasters.”
“I can’t believe the library has become a hub for villains to exchange notes,” Juliette muttered, disgust clear on her face.
“Whoever is responsible for writing in this book already knows its secrets. Taking it away won’t stop them from using the information if they wish,” Andrew said. “For now, it may be wiser to hide it. That way, we might actually find a way to stay one step ahead.”
Edmund’s gaze flicked from Andrew to the two unconscious men, still bound in ice.
“You’re right. We don’t know who’s truly behind this, only that it’s a well-run organization.
This feels less like a simple chain of command and more like a spider’s web—the kind where, even if you cut away a few threads, the creature at the center remains untouched.
We may crush this case, but if wealthy clients are pulling the strings, then it won’t be just the medical field under threat. ”
“Agreed,” Andrew replied. “But for now, we focus on what’s before us. Keeping Isla and the other targets safe. We know these particular men won’t be organizing an attack on Professor Smith any longer. I’d take that as a victory.”
“I still don’t understand why I’m a target,” Isla said quietly. “I worked with Ray in the lab, yes—but not on penicillin.”
“We will find out, Isla.” Edmund held her gaze, steady and certain, until she nodded back at him.