Ch. 5: The Bookkeeper

I won't bother to describe everything that happened when we finally reached The Capital. I'll just leave that to your imagination.

Instead, I'll skip ahead to when we made it to the palace, which, mind you, was very extravagant and huge. I had never known a building could be this large. It reminded me of how Abarin would describe caves to us. But unlike those dark, dreary caves he told us about, instead I was standing in a vast expanse of marble and tan stone, clearly illuminated by the now risen sun.

Now both Illesior and Vrotaz were leading us through a long corridor, brightly lit by Sol's symbol beaming through the panels of glass along the wall. I could see the vast expanse of the Capital from here, since the palace laid at the heart of the city.

Suddenly we came to a huge room, the walls gilded with gold and silver and the windows large enough to accommodate the true beauty of the great city.

"Mother!" Illesior called. "I have brought a gift for you!"

The lavish chair at the end of the room, laden with velvet and gold, swiveled to reveal a majestic aetyr sitting upon it. She was a dark, fair lady, with indigo eyes and a thick black mane. Her fur was marbled with swirls of purpur and lavender, and on her head she wore a silver crown with seven gems on it, each of every hue.

The Queen scrunched her nose in disbelief when she saw me beside the prince, but said nothing relating to me; only addressing the aetyrim in line behind her son and advisor.

"Greetings, aetyrim." She said slowly, leaning forward in her seat. "I trust my son has chosen wisely according to each of your respective magic. But he should know just as well as anyone that I am not the one designating your stations." She waved her paw. "Vrotaz, take them to the arena in the lower quarter. Assess them again, and then do what you think is best."

Vrotaz bowed, and motioned for the other aetyrim to follow him. I caught Arius' eye as he turned, but I couldn't read what he was thinking.

"Illesior, why isn't that aetyr heading off with the others?" The Queen asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

Her son bowed. "My dear mother Omani, this I have here is a rarity that no one else has seen the likes of in all of Aetyria. She is an albino, and one without magic. Her name is Aven Elsgard."

Omani's eyes widened, but not out of astonishment. Rather, it was of disbelief and a hint of disgust. "Why have you brought the lowest of the low here?" She demanded.

"I would've expected you to say that she had the power to rid Aetyria of the Consumed. But how is she in any way helpful to the royal family?"

Illesior looked hurt at his mother's words, but deftly replied, "Mother, do you remember the last Bookkeeper?"

"Kadmus? How could I have forgotten?" Omani responded coldly. "He was driven insane due to his own unstable magic affected by the Spell Book. And Julricus before him caused the last wave of the Consumed. They were both killed due to the Order they kept."

"Well, Mother, I have found a way to end the Consumed's creation, and the way to create an ultimate balance between mortal and magic. I believe that this albino without magic will bridge that gap."

Omani sat there, deep in thought and reluctant to agree to Illesior's words. I held my breath.

But then she started to laugh. "Illesior, you surprise me more every day," She chuckled. "You've managed to find the most worthless aetyr of them all- a pure white aetyr- and make her worth something. Are you certain that she has no magic?"

He nodded. "She has no aura signifying that she has anything of the sort."

 She eyed him thoughtfully, then turned to me, her indigo eyes piercing into mine.

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, my son," The Queen said softly. "But all things must be tested, especially something so dire as you say. And I have just the thing in mind."

I looked at Illesior expectantly. His face was filled with both confusion and eagerness as he motioned me to follow him and his mother.

We walked down another long corridor, mazing in and out through various hallways. The palace felt like a labyrinth, and I couldn't tell where we were going.

Before I knew it we were in a dark room, and in front of us stood a huge spruce door, laden with brass locks and iron shackles.

Illesior shivered next to me, but not from the cold. Rather, it was dark memories that ran chillingly down his spine.

Omani stood there, emotionless. "If she is really magicless as you say, my son," She said to the prince, "Then I assume only the best will happen. But if either you or her are lying…"

My eyes widened and Illesior's face grew dark. "I know I am not lying, and I trust the albino's words. But only the gods know for sure what will happen."

Omani stared at him, almost sad in a way. "I pray that is the case." Then she turned to me.

"Albino, it is time for the gods to decide your destiny."

What? I didn't know what her and her son planned to do with me, but I could tell both of them were anxious; almost as if they were anticipating a storm to hit.

But then Illesior unlocked the huge door, and for a split second warm light blinded me.

I was suddenly thrust into the room, and before I could react the door slammed shut behind me. I faintly heard a myriad of clicks, signifying that the door was being locked.

"Hey! Wait!" I yelped, scrambling to my feet. "Don't leave me here! Where are you?"

But I heard nothing. I shivered, a little scared.

Then I turned and looked around. The room I was in was like a little office, bookshelves lining the walls and a table in the center. Then I noticed the book sitting there.

I stepped closer, anxiety racing through my mind. The book seemed in good condition; it was bound with green dyed leather and a golden ridge. Strange symbols were etched on the cover, the most prominent being a pentagram within a crudely drawn eye. It was very ornate and well made, but something about it made me realize that the book itself was ancient.

Was this the Spell Book everyone was scared of?

I reached forward, curiosity fighting my initial fear, and gently grazed my paw across the cover. The leather was cool to the touch.

But I felt nothing supernatural. If I didn't know better, I would've thought this was just another ordinary book in a thrift shop.

Maybe there was nothing to fear, after all.

I opened the book and saw the first page.

It was a dull, yellowed paper, and covered with a few symbols I didn't recognize, but there was one inscription that, despite being written in an ancient language that I couldn't decipher, I understood what it said:

 Cursed by the gods; eternal purgatory is mine. But though days may fade, and history has taken flight, the name of Dukalis shall remain through all of time.

Anyone can wake me, but only the pure will allow me to speak. Otherwise, a damning and painful past will haunt you, until your breath is last felt.

Cast the lots, and may the gods decide your fate.

What did this mean? What should I do?

Despite me asking myself these questions, the truth was blatantly clear, and an ominous fate lurked behind me like my shadow.

But I was scared. Scared that I would be driven insane if I truly had magic within me, waiting to be awakened. Was my whole life just a lie? To be sacrificed as a scapegoat? To be nothing more than an anomaly, a rarity only worth for a test that nobody else was brave enough or strong enough to withstand?

Tears welled in my eyes as I sat down abruptly, the true weight of where I was finally dawning on me. I was foolish to think that the day my life changed was going to be for the better.

But Abarin came to my mind. He didn't leave Aetryia for nothing. He was going to find the lost gods, and free us all from an inequality that plagued the nation.

I sniffed and stood. I was going to be brave for my father. I wasn't going to back down from my potential destiny and so disgrace everything he had stood for.

I was going to be a Bookkeeper if need be.

I turned back to the cursed book, the tears fading from my eyes and my face hardening.

My voice cracked as I whispered somberly.

"Awaken, Dukalis."