Chương 15: The Sea Folk

Inside his mind palace, time passed differently for WARHOL. It passed slower. Not monumentally slower and not literally slower, though it did seem that way because of the spell. Here, his perception of time was slowed, so it seemed as though hours had passed with only a fraction as much passing in the real world. In his referrals, he determined that the civilization which built this 'oldest' complex, as he now took to calling it, were likely the Sea Folk. Not much was known about the Sea Folk.

They were a highly advanced people, by the few accounts of them which remained. If one believed legends and partial reconstructions of historical hearsay, they were also responsible for the wholesale defeat of their period's mightiest empires. Unfortunately, there was a lot of unknown variables between 'highly advanced people responsible for the defeat of great empires' and 'actually existing society confirmed to actually exist.'

Many a researcher had spent their careers trying to prove the existence of the Sea Folk only to find nothing by a diploma for their troubles. If he wanted to bridge the connection between this complex and the Sea Folk, he had to find something, a passage in a scroll or maybe some unique pottery, which denoted a point of intersection between here and the Sea Folk's hypothesized territory. Which would be a task in and of itself.

A task he gladly took on before he remembered his intent in being here was not to act as an archeologist. It was to find a tool or weapon that might be used against the Horror from Beyond. But for today, that was enough. He had good reason to suspect that it was the Sea Folk who built this complex, possibly under the orders of a more advanced civilization considering the extent of the construction. Why he thought so was because several of the runes here matched the runes found in suspected Sea Folk ruins.

Not all of the runes matched, but it was enough for Warhol to make an educated guess. But, again, enough for today. Though it would be enough for Frank, who, never the educated type to begin with, would not bother to research this stuff himself. They would delegate it to the many academics he would bring into the team no doubt he was building right now. Imagining this place run over seven ways to the holy day with legions of academics warmed his heart. He might not be able to research but they could!

A headache was coming on: which told him his time was up. He finger-curtseyed and all of the books and maps he had removed returned to their shelves. The fire doused, the tea kettle cleaned itself, the windows tinted. Warhol opened his eyes and was back in the ancient ruins. Imbuing his finger with a trivial sum of magic, Warhol touched it to his forehead and dragged it across his temples. And just like that, his coming headache vanished.

Not for the first, nor last time today, he smiled at the multiple ways magic benefitted his life. Using his finger again, he drew a circle in the air, then incanted [Teleport]. He stepped through the portal and was back in the nation of Morrow, inside one of the inner-sanctum chambers of the Planetary Defense League.

"Frank?" This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. No response.

"Frank?" he called again, but louder. Still, no response. Warhol incanted [Locate: Frank], then [Clear Vision: Highlight]. Frank's golden outlined appeared to be in a chamber close to him. Why would Frank ignore him? Well, aside from the obvious reasons, that is. Warhol glided on magic air until he reached outside Frank's chamber. Just before he knocked and announced his presence, though, he heard talking. He knew he shouldn't, but he listened in anyway:"... Frank, this is a lot to ask of me.

You know how difficult things have been ever since the incident." The incident? Surely, the speaker referred to his incident, with the Mind Slop parasite.

"I am aware," Frank replied.

"I know the delicateness of things, and I am trying to be sensitive to it, but I need back up if things go wrong. If another incident was to happen, I don't know what would happen. We're stronger than we were a couple of years ago, sure, but with this new threat, there's only so much I can do alone."

"You've been having a hard time of it — I know. We've all had our hardships, Frank. So much has changed since the incident. Gods! Our parliament is half-filled with freaking lepers, for gods-sake! I doubt those people will want to work closely with Warhol on anything, let alone some pie-in-the-sky unity project. Don't you think that ship has sailed!?" Who was this second speaker. He mentioned parliament. Numerous countries in the Eastern Continent had parliaments, a newer form of political representation.

Here, in the Western continent, kings and emperors still reigned supreme. They were from the Eastern Continent, then, surely, but which country?

"I know about that, your honor." Frank kept his tone low, respectful.

"I've kept up with the news, it's just... we need to do something. Something real. We can't sit on our assess and play with our fiddlesticks just because of past trauma. If we do that, we'll die!" Frank sounded determined. Were they plotting against him, understandably so, if so, or were they trying to negotiate on the part of their shadow alliance? It sounded to him a little bit of both. Frank's interlocutor paused. He could hear them grunting, like they were forced to make a decision they didn't want to make.

"I will see what I can do. But the voters and parliament are not going to go after this mega-project of yours without evidence. If you can't get me something real, then that's it. Understand?" the second voice said, speaking in a militaristic sort of way, too definite, too harsh.

"I am aware of what it will take. Now, if you will excuse me, I do believe I heard Warhol just a bit ago calling for me."

"Warhol is here?" The second voice was fearful. Unnerved.

"I will go out the back. Don't tell him I was here, will you?" At that point, Warhol broke off his eavesdropping. He floated back to the inner sanctum he teleported into and acted as if he were admiring the beautiful artwork when Frank entered.

"I'm sure you heard all that, yeah?" Frank sounded unamused.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" He sounded innocent but that only meant a confession as far as Frank was bothered.

"Yeah, yeah." Frank strode forward until they were standing in front of him. Their face was flat and expressionless of anything concerning diplomacy.

"You're a scary figure, Warhol. I can't take risks you won't turn on us again or become infected. I admit it. I was asking another power for help, but I won't say who. I also was talking to them about our project. So, now that, that is out of the way, how about we skip the ball busting part, and you tell me what you've found?" Warhol smiled.

"Gladly, friend... ish?" Frank didn't return his smile.

"Don't push it."