Chương 26: Chapter 22- Revelations

She worried for him, but this was a step he had to take. She marked the date in her head. Next year, she…all of them would be here waiting for him.... … |DxD|- Chapter 22- Revelations …... Grey, grey, and more grey. The warm afternoon sun was replaced by stale air and old wood. A suitcase clunked on the ground as the familiar sight sank it in for Igor. He was back inside.

"Sigh…" The cabin was still rustic as usual—just one strong breeze from falling apart. The wood still had its rough edges that promised a splinter if he brushed his hand against it—not that it could anymore. He'd grown. The large hourglass was filled to the brim with ash trickling down to the bottom half. His watched with a complicated gaze as the new cycle began. The source of the ash gave him mixed feelings. Yesterday, it was his grandfather and Marcei. Today, it was the beast. What would be there tomorrow?

He shook his head. That was too far ahead. He had to deal with the now, and that meant confronting the truth. He took a step forward. Fifteen months. He had to hold out for fifteen—no, not just hold out. He had to make the best of them, to come out stronger than ever, to become a strong enough for his new family. His brows lowered in determination. It was time to see if Marcei and Tallus really left something behind. Igor pulled his suitcase and walked towards the steps.

The rubber soles muffled his steps, but not the pounding in his heart. His earlier random thoughts were a guise to hide the turmoil brewing within him. Each step carried him forward towards a truth he had to confront. The wood creaked as it always did for the past five years. His hand slid up the railing. The rough surface scratched his palm. He made it to the porch and stood there in silence. So much happened in the three weeks he was gone. It was more like he was gone for a year rather than barely a month.

He raised his hand. A thin outline of golden energy flowed around it. The door before him used to be so imposing. Now, he could punch it clean off its hinges. [I'm strong now.] That single notion was a shower of water over the fire in his chest. He felt secure in his new capabilities. He placed his hand on the handle and opened the door. There was a short hallway that led to stairs. On his left was a door to his bedroom. On the right were two doors to both the bathroom and the storeroom.

A single light bulb dangled from the ceiling and bathed the hallway in an orange glow. Igor took a step inside. Upstairs was the library he sought to visit to see if he could find anything on vital energy. He'd barely pulled in his suitcase when blue motes of light started clumping together before him. His heart rate quickened. A cluster of golden energy gathered in his palm. Whatever it was, he'd incinerate it if it was a threat. The blue ball before him hovered in midair.

He didn't feel anything threatening from it. The steady collection of mana was an electric buzz to his senses.

"Igor. If you hear this, then it means you survived and I have passed on."

"..." Igor slowly lowered his hand. Bubbling surprise was quickly cooled by cold acceptance. Of course they died. He was stupid to still believe otherwise. There was still lingering resentment for the lies, but it was not as intense.

"I apologize sincerely for what you had to go through. We never intended to pull you into the time chamber that early, but we had no choice ever since that beast found your mother's tomb."

"!!" The floorboards creaked beneath his feet. His heart rose to his throat. His mother's tomb? Igor felt his knees going weak. One thought drowned everything else.

"Where is—""A lot has happened in this century, Igor. I do no not know how to say this gently. There is so much I could inform you of, but I shall state the foremost information. The time of this recording is the year 1991. Forty-three years ago, our clan faced imminent defeat against the forces of the supernatural world. In that year, the time chamber was sealed into you whilst you were still in your mother's womb. When our home was finally invaded, your father sacrificed his life to cover your mother's retreat.

You were born the year after." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Revelation after revelation battered Igor. He listened in barely composed silence, his trembling fists betraying him. Marcei mercilessly tore his heart open with grim tellings of his clan's, his mother's, last days. She had escaped to Kuoh through one of their clan's last remaining exits. Fearing discovery and persecution, she buried herself… alive.

"She could only spend a year nursing you before she had to forfeit her life." Marcei continued as if narrating the weather, uncaring for the boy who could barely digest this information. Seraphine was strong, far too strong to remain undiscovered. The world was in a period of finding and executing any survivors. The vitality of their people made it easy to filter them among the ordinary. She, hidden as she was, was drawing attention from the Shinto.

"To keep you safe, she sacrificed herself to use a powerful magic that would not only hide you from divination magic, but keep you nourished and slow your aging." He aged only one year for every decade that passed. His mother turned into a husk while he lived on. She left behind an illusion of the family they could've been, a normal family she always dreamed of having.

"The plan was for 150 years to pass before we pulled you into the time chamber. You would be old enough to understand and young enough to train effectively. But that all changed when that beast found the tomb. I apologise, Igor. You were far too young, yet we had no choice but to pull you in."

"..." Igor had fallen to his knees. His eyes were hollow, his face hidden beneath his growing bangs. The floorboards stained with drips of cold sweat. He could still remember his father's bellowing laugh and his mother's helpless smile. That world may have been an illusion, but it was undeniably real to him.

"I do not ask that you seek vengeance, Igor. Only that you be careful. Be wary of the Fallen, the Angel, and the Devils. Few can be trusted, but they can be bargained with. It is the gods you should be very cautious of for they have no integrity nor empathy. They have steered the world for millennia and intend to do so for more to come. The library will contain the knowledge you need to remain hidden. You are now of age that you will begin developing your mana organs and circuits.

We have prepared all that you will need to hasten the process and begin wielding magic. We we could be here for you, but our lives were sealed the moment we defied the artifact's rules. Your grandfather and I have left our insights in mana mediums such as this one to aid you in your journey. You may revisit them whenever you deem necessary. I wish you well, Igor. Have a life. Have children so the lineage of Ariya may continue. Live in peace. Live in silence.

May the All-Father be with you in your journey, son of Valour." Marcei's mana fizzled out and the passage fell into a lull of silence. Igor barely heard the last words, too caught up in his head trying to make sense of everything that was spilled onto him. Grief swelled within him. The answers he sought were given, yet he was left more fractured than before. Baraquiel's words were not a lie. The world really did conspire against his people. Bang! The suitcase was upended from the sudden burst of aura.

It fell on its side, the wheels spinning uselessly. The hanging bulb swung above the brazier of golden energy. Igor raised his head. His eyes glowed and dimmed, rapidly shifting from blue to yellow over and over.

"Mother…" His fingers clawed the floorboards. His words were hoarse and desperate. In his dying moments, it wasn't an illusion. She was there with him.

'PLEASE FIGHT!!!!!!!!' She was the one who gave him the strength to survive… to fight. A sound escaped his lips—a half laugh, half sob—none of the amusement in between. It was of madness as one's reality crumbled beneath them. Wood splintered beneath his hands. Maybe… maybe it was just a bad dream. The world was bad. He knew… he knew from experience. But it couldn't be this terrible. It couldn't! It couldn't!!!... … |DxD| …... Each step weighed like lead as Igor ascended the stairs.

His legs moved without purpose nor thought. His expression was hollow with dried tears. He had a small smile held only by a cracking chain of will and doubt. Perhaps Baraquiel was exaggerating when he said his people numbered in the millions. Maybe his clan numbered in the thousands instead. If only thousands were killed, that'd be more… acceptable. Countless clans were killed in history. His would just be another statistic. He could endure that truth.

He ascended the last step and came to face a wide room with shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls. He could feel it as soon as he entered. All these books and scrolls were somehow made of mana.

"Today, I will give you a brief history of our clan." Igor's head snapped to the right. There, a mana ball hovered. From it, he heard his grandfather's voice. He immediately remembered the moment Tallus turned into ash. The memory was something he'd willfully suppressed, now brought back.

"We are descendants of Ariya, the man who led our clan to not participate in building the Tower of Babel. For thousands of years since then, we have been blessed by the All-Father." Tallus's voice was calm and constant. It was not frayed and despairing like during his final moments. Igor listened with quiet attention, desperately wanting to understand more about his clan.

"Our people lived for centuries and could understand all languages. Our innovations were never-ending. This time chamber you stand in is the culmination of our knowledge, and it is for this very reason we were sieged. All our knowledge and history from the First Era and the past four-thousand years has been collected in this very library. Events through time have been transcribed in the scrolls you see."

The mana ball went across the small library like a floating guide, stopping alongside several books of different titles. Rows of bookshelves were separated only by a narrow passage. Surrounding the room were the scrolls secured on shelves.

"While we may no longer be here, we have left our insights. All of the books you see will contain our interpretation and understanding. Slowly, you will learn what it means to be an Ariyan. I do not expect you to seek revenge, but do not let our heritage die, Igor. Have sons and daughters. Live a quiet and studious life." Tallus's mana slowly fizzled out next to a book. Amongst all the others, it buzzed to his senses. Igor walked over and took it in his hands. It was black, with a simple title written in gold.

"Ariya And His Descendants." Holding it was like holding two bricks. The pages seemed never-ending, but Igor was determined to read it. This book would make sense of everything. No more guesses. In this book, there would be things Baraquiel and Shuri wouldn't know. This book would cover history from the Great Flood to the war. He wanted—no, needed to know it all.

END