The Elder's Curse by Andrew Walbrown (ereader for textbooks TXT) 📕

“It was all an illusion? Some dark magic designed to bring madness to its victims? But it felt so real. That’s how Accaria looks, smells, and feels. The city was perfect, Mount Meganthus was as well. How could such magic exist?”

“I don’t know; it must have somehow penetrated your mind.” Kona shrugged, “It doesn’t matter though. None of it was real, and now the exit is open. We should be moving again.”

She made to stand up, but Amantius’ grip held her in place. Whether it was an illusion or not, he was still disturbed by what he had witnessed. The dreadful image of seeing his mother trotted onto the stage like a common criminal kept replaying in his mind, the sound of the axe biting into her neck and the dull thud of her head hitting the ground continued to echo in his ears. The whole ordeal left his legs weak and his stomach unsettled.

“Do you mind if we stay a little longer?” Amantius asked, his voice still hoarse. “I don’t know if I’m ready for whatever comes next.”

Kona smiled. “Of course not. We can stay as long as you like.”

Interlude

Enchanted boulders? Illusionary magic that creates entire worlds within a room? What nonsense this is! Even first-year students at the Academy know such magic does not exist! Whoever authored this volume clearly allowed their imagination to run wild and create absurd magical scenarios. It is a pity because now I am certain Amantius Jeranus and Ulam the Orc did not exist, or if they did, their actual story is cloaked in tales of fictitious magic.

Regardless of recent developments, for many days I have continued searching for the third volume of what I have named TheAccarian Chronicles. I have systematically removed every single book from the shelves of the Library of Silverwater, checked each text for any reference to our two protagonists, and found nothing. I am starting to question whether or not I should continue my efforts because finding the entire series seems impossible. But how could I return to the Academy with empty hands and expect to keep my post?

I am at a crossroads, albeit a rather regrettable one. I could return to Echona, explain to Archmage Ambrose the folly of my decisions, and pray that he is lenient. Another option would be to continue my search and hope I uncover more volumes by the time I am summoned to return. Of course, there is a third option, which is to run away and hide for the rest of my life. Although, embarrassingly enough, I am not trained for any other profession. I know nothing of building a home, chopping firewood, making a campfire, hunting, fishing, foraging, or any other survival skill. If this is the path I choose, or have forced upon me, I will be dead before the first frost of the year.

As I mentioned I could return to Echona and hope to keep my position. Archmage Ambrose is fairly reasonable, though even the most logical person on the planet very well could turn irrational once they learned their money was poorly invested. Even if I am pardoned, my name would carry the stain of failure for the rest of my life. I would lose favor within the Academy’s highest circle, the vacuum from which would undoubtedly be filled by some up-and-comer. Unfortunately, at this time that is the best-case scenario if I chose to return.

It seems my best option is to keep pursuing the missing volumes, though I do not know where to start. I suppose traveling to Yawan may be in order, though this time I will have to pay for passage on an ocean liner due to the inaccessibility of the city. Will the books be there? I doubt it. I am looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, and unfortunately, this haystack covers all of time and space.

If anything it should be an enlightening adventure, as I have only seen a few Kalikkis in my lifetime. Over the centuries they have become marginally less paranoid about the outside world, which is surprising considering how isolated they still are today. The Mwai, on the other hand, I have seen on multiple occasions. They are fairly common in academic circles, especially in regards to magic. This is a relatively new development in their long history, as a Mwai historian once told me. According to her, originally the Mwai cared little for education, for centuries their culture was rooted in self-imposed ignorance. They did not value the pursuit of knowledge, because collectively they did not see the point in learning science, mathematics, or the arts when, at any moment, their society could be annihilated by a plague or invading horde. I suppose I cannot blame their mindset; after all, what good is a poem in a sword fight?

The Mwai historian told me that at some undocumented point in history her people underwent an intellectual revolution, with the arts and sciences flourishing during that Golden Age. But not just those two fields of study; more importantly, the Mwai began sending their most magically adept to the Academy. A few generations later their entire society had been transformed, the ways of their ancestors completely unrecognizable. Nowadays some of the leading magicians and philosophers of our world are Mwai, which if someone would have suggested in a different epoch, they would have been laughed out of the room.

I apologize for the rambling; it is an old habit. Soon I will set out for Yawan, the homeland of both the Kalikkis and the Mwai. I am saddened to be leaving Silverwater, for it truly is a beautiful city, though I do intend to return here someday. Too much of the world, past and present, is written in the texts on these shelves for me to ignore. Plus, I have struck a rather odd friendship with the head librarian. He is a peculiar fellow, but I suppose so am I.

Chapter 17

Ulam

Mazargo stood outside an oval