Chương 95: Chapter 28: Ineffable

In the stillness of the eighteenth floor, she took Eliud's book. A deep sigh, now a ritual before plunging into its pages, preceded the reading.

"The Eranthor tribe," it began,"so that they would give us their support, betrothed the chief's daughter of barely two years to my son, already a year and a half old. They joined us immediately. They were expert merchants." Unification advanced, woven with arranged marriages and brutal pragmatism.

"Ebonar joined us when we besieged the mountains where they lived; upon noticing that our army was already far superior, they simply surrendered to the unification. Their knowledge of metallurgy was very useful." Force, once again, was the most eloquent argument.

"Rholkar, the tribe of the forests, only asked us to respect their god, Mycolic, to join us, and so we did. Their strength and knowledge of plants gave us the foundations of today's healing." A flash of respect, a thread of diplomacy in the midst of conquest. But then, the tone darkened.

"However, the next three tribes held a military union: the Aethryn, expert spearmen; the Ghorunn, excellent archers; and lastly the Harkon, of whom only their strange taste for bloody battle was known." The enemy took shape, more formidable and sinister.

"I sought knowledge once again with the Balyr, and venturing into ancient ruins within the Ebonar territories, we found a cryptic wall that, after six months, we deciphered in full." The obsession with power led him to rummage through ruins and decipher the forbidden. Selena felt the weight of every word, the path of no return that Eliud was treading.

"On the wall were detailed the secrets of summoning a creature of the Void." Selena held her breath.

"And although I already possessed sufficient power with the spoken echo and the written touch, I was unable to do more for my people, for the people who gave their lives for me, for the families left without fathers, for the families left without sons. So, I did it. I did it… yes, I did it… I summoned that thing. I cannot define it better. They have no form, nor are they seen; they are like the air, they cannot even be felt. They are, in a word, ineffable."

The description was more terrifying than any concrete monster. An abstract presence, an alien and incomprehensible consciousness. The account of the summoning was meticulous and horrific.

"After creating the circle with my blood drawn underground in case things went wrong, I activated it with spoken magic. But nothing changed; it didn't even feel different as it does when the echo is used, until my entire body shuddered, my hair stood on end, and my ears began to sense whispers." The whispers of the Void, but this time with a conscious, mocking, and ancient voice.

"—Insignificant human, your wretched destiny pleases me. I shall not be arrogant and, for the blood of a thousand furious men, plus your most hated memory, I shall give you my service as a guard and one of the understandings of the echo that I command." The pact. Not with a god, but with a parasite from another dimension. The price: a massacre and a precious memory. Eliud, the man who wanted to save his people, accepted.

"I could not believe it, but I accepted." The simplicity of the sentence was devastating.

"After fulfilling long battles for eight months, the sound returned to me. —Well done; I claim now your memory and the blood. In exchange, I shall protect your life and give you access to my echo of animal dominion." The trade was consummated. Blood and memory in exchange for power. Then, the first application of the stolen power.

"The battles continued; the union of the three tribes was formidable, until one day we noticed it. The other side had a resonant, an especially strong one. He used spoken echo upon the air, replicating gaseous poisons that decimated many of my men. His name was 'Jing the Ethereal,' and he was of Harkon."

"I pulled back my troops and we attacked at night with few; we decimated some of their ranks. But in the morning reinforcements arrived for them; they surrounded us. Then I used the echo of the void creature. I ordered all the creatures of the forest to attack. Ten years of my life vanished as if they were nothing, but every animal attacked." Selena could see it: a tide of beasts, large and small, emerging from the forest in a controlled frenzy, a tsunami of claws and fangs directed by an alien will.

The cost, ten years, was monstrous.

"Today they say that Aelthra gave me the gift of the flow, but the truth is that it was a dismal pact that condemned my life." Selena closed the book, her hands trembling. He was not just a founder. He was a man who had sold his soul, his memory, and years of his life to an entity of the Void to win a battle.

The legend of the king blessed by the gods was a facade hiding a much darker truth: the first Volgthar had also been the first blood sorcerer, the first summoner, the first condemned on a level she could not even imagine. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Deliberately, as if trying to leave behind the weight of Eliud's words and the shadow of the ineffable creatures, Selena left the library.

The sun's rays, already low, were beginning to tint the clouds with a palette of oranges and purples, a spectacle of mundane beauty that seemed unreal after immersing herself in cosmic pacts. She did not return to her room; the idea of four walls oppressed her. She needed air, space, something that wasn't parchment dust and echoes of ancestral madness. She walked aimlessly along the campus paths until her feet led her to the edges of the botanical gardens.

There, in front of the entrance to a labyrinth of high, dark hedges, a wooden sign driven firmly into the earth warned:"Entry only with an instructor." The warning, she thought with a hint of bitterness, seemed to apply to her entire life in this world. Instead of entering, she dropped onto the grass beside the sign, feeling the dampness of the cool blades through the fabric of her trousers.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to cleanse her mind of alien whispers and the metallic smell of the blood of a thousand furious men. She remained like that, motionless, for half an hour, until her breathing returned to a calmer rhythm. It was then that a voice, polite but firm, pulled her from her reverie. —Forgive me, my lady. I am curious. Selena opened her eyes. A tall boy with light brown skin and an impeccable haircut, shaved at the sides with a thick braid falling down his back, observed her.

He gave a notable nod, a gesture of respect that stopped short of being servile. —I present myself first of all. I am Ralish Silkhand. A fellow student of yours in the Way of Medicine. He paused, measuring her, evaluating her reaction, almost expecting something from the other side, but Selena did not react. —If I may, my lady… why does a woman of your rank, so clearly interested in medicine, choose to consciously ignore the subject of the four humors, which are fundamental for treatment and diagnosis here?

His expression was one of genuine curiosity, without a trace of reproach, only the interest of a diligent student before an academic enigma. Selena looked at him. She had no energy for detours. Fatigue and weariness spoke for her. —It is pseudoscience —she blurted out, emotionless, as if stating a fact as evident as the setting sun. Ralish blinked, disconcerted by the strange term. —In case you are unfamiliar with the concept —Selena continued.

But in her eyes, for an instant, shone the cold, logical flash of a man of Earth. —It is like believing in false statements because they have aligned, by chance or faulty observation, with some real diagnoses. The scientific method must always be replicable, under the same conditions, regardless of the beliefs or the humor of the physician. Only that… She fell silent for a second, then finished. Ralish watched her intently. —Is what truly saves lives. Not superstitions about black bile or phlegm.

The boy, Ralish, remained silent. He took his chin between his thumb and index finger, lost in deep thought. The seconds stretched out. Finally, he lowered his hand, and his face lit up with an understanding that went beyond the academic. —That is to say… —he said slowly— true ethics lie in replicating to save. In understanding to attend. And in diagnosing to help. To do so with unclear methods, with foundations that cannot be verified… is the same as condemning the patient through negligence.

His gaze was lucid, as if he had unearthed a fundamental truth. —Exactly —Selena nodded, surprised by the speed of his understanding. Ralish nodded slowly, and then his expression changed; his brow furrowed and he added: —But the master's will not believe it to be so, at least not just because you abandon the classes… Selena traced a slight smile, laden with confidence she didn't actually feel entirely, but which her position allowed her to fake. —It is not a problem —she said, slightly raising her chin.

It was a gesture that would have been one of arrogance in anyone else, but in her, it was pure defense. —I could speak of it with the King. The statement, so simple and so monumental, floated in the twilight air. Ralish looked at her with renewed interest, completely re-evaluating the woman sitting in the grass. —What is your title of nobility? —Selena asked, her curiosity now piqued. An eyebrow arched, waiting for the answer. Ralish lowered his head for a moment, a gesture of modest frankness. —None, my lady.

My father is an aracnex silk magnate. He hopes that, with a son making great contributions to the kingdom's health… His Majesty will finally grant him a noble title. —The title is the least of it —Selena said. However, her smile, for the first time in a long while, was luminous and devoid of the Crimson Duchess's shadow. —Call me Selena. It will be a pleasure to know a promising future doctor, just as your father wishes. —She winked at him, a casual gesture that came to her naturally.

Ralish held back a nervous giggle, a slight blush tinting his brown cheeks. —It will be an honor —he managed to articulate, and he sat on the grass beside her, keeping a respectful but comfortable distance. That afternoon, which slipped smoothly into night, passed among the fresh grass and easy conversation. They spoke mockingly of the most pedantic medicine masters, shared anecdotes about the frustrating complexity of veins and blood vessels compared to the predictable logic of bones.

Ralish told her some inconsequential rumors about their classmates, and Selena, in exchange, listened with genuine interest as he described how his family raised aracnex, those enormous and valuable weaving spiders. He described how they cared for and fed them a special insect paste over generations, but what surprised Selena most was what followed: —They are excellent at socializing among themselves, my lady Selena, and very curious.

Sometimes, when I observe them, it seems they are trying to understand what is happening around them. An absurd and fascinating thought crossed Selena's mind: the image of a friendly spider, with brilliant intelligence in its eight eyes, weaving not just silk, but connections. It was a glimpse of a world that could be wonderful, far from bloody echoes and dismal pacts, far, very far from how ominous the world actually turned out to be.

An easy smile took hold of her; it was clear she enjoyed learning about the mundane as well.