Past Manuscripts
Nils skipped his way down the great white road, blowing a few random notes on his flute
Nils skipped his way down the great white road, blowing a few random notes on his flute. Occasionally, groups of dragons would lumber past him, whining high notes of greeting.
Nils would smile back at them in his wise-but-young way, looking them straight into the eye to let them know that he was one of them, not a wandering human that had crossed the gate by accident.
There was always a way to differentiate between humans and dragons in human form. Humans' eyes were dull, mostly of several shades of colours; yet, when you scrutinised a dragon's eye, it would appear like iridescence.
Tucking his flute back into his pouch, he ran over to the smooth grey boulder by the lake. As he lay on its flat top, he recalled how Ninian used to bring him here whenever they were free. She would lift him, who was still a small kid, onto the boulder, and stand by it. Together, they would watch the stars in the night.
He remembered how she used to discuss their parents. She had told him that their mother, Nini, had been captured by some crooks and father had disappeared to look for her. Their father had given them a pouch of food and other necessities before leaving and had instructed them to cross over to the dragon's territory if he did not return in ten days' time. After waiting for two weeks, Ninian had finally led him to the gate and crossed over to the other world.
The memory of his parents was very blurry in his mind. Of his mother, he could briefly recall her smooth light blue hair, fair skin and pale eyes, though he knew that she was, in reality, a dragon. His father's image was even more vague; perhaps it was due to the disconnection between their bloods. He knew that his father was a human, but that was nearly all. Closing his eyes, he let the flashes of the past blink before him. The bluish-green hair he and Ninian had inherited, the pale complexion, the long and thin face, the swirling dark robes of a druid that were imbibed with magical symbols.
"Wait!" He sat up all of a sudden and shouted. Two dragons that had been swimming in the water started, choked on the water, spluttered and glared at the little musician with watercress streaming from their muzzles.
"Sorry," Nils grinned sheepishly and scooted off as they whined angrily. He just remembered something.
Sprinting, he dashed across the plains and threaded his way through an arbor of oak trees, whose leaves were turning golden to the onset of autumn.
And there it was, standing solid and firm on the ground.
"I'm hungry, Ninian," whined Nils, clutching onto his stomach. "And tired, and thirsty and sleepy and …" He caught sight of Ninian's haggard expression, weary from the walking and lack of sleep. "Sorry…" he apologised meekly.
"It's okay, Nils," she smiled tiredly. "We're all tired, cold and hungry. But we'll find somewhere nice and cozy to live in no time, so don't worry about it."
After walking for approximately half a mile, they caught sight of the empty little cottage standing alone in the middle of the meadow.
"Nils, do you think that will be okay to live in?" Ninian asked.
Nodding his head vehemently, Nils was already running towards the house, followed by his sister.
Cracking open the door by a tiny fraction, Nils popped his head through and peered around.
"It's empty," he whispered fearfully. "And dark. Maybe there are monsters inside there."
Carrying a torch, Ninian walked in cautiously.
The cottage was empty, and uninhabited, but someone had lived there a long, long time ago. There was a heavy coat of dust on the furniture and cobwebs dangled from the ceiling in masses.
"I don't want to live here, Ninian," Nils whimpered, "There are monsters inside these kind of houses."
"Don't be silly, Nils," Ninian walked over and comforted him with a warm, sisterly hug. "There are no monsters."
"But you said that mummy and daddy were captured by monsters!" Nils said, cocking his head to one side. "That means that monsters do exist!"
"They do," Ninian said heavily, "in another sense."
Cracking open the door by a fraction like how he had done during then, he peered into the cottage.
It was uninhabited and apparently no one had entered it ever since he and Ninian had gone. The pouch, emptied of its contents, was still lying on the table. The thin cotton blankets, now rotting from the lapse in time, rested on the bed, still folded neatly. The bottle of water, now stale, was still on the table. The first aid kit was still tucked safely in the remote corner of the shelf overhead. The torches were still where Ninian had left them on the bedside table. And there were still the books in the bookshelf, arranged meticulously in alphabetical order, as well as the stack of papers on the table.
They were the papers and documents saved from where they had first lived. In their rushed departure, Ninian had frantically dashed to the library and the study, picking up whatever she could bring along to the world of the dragons for a glimpse of memory in future.
And they were all still intact; the paper still white as though they were newly- processed, the writing and ink still jet black with no signs of fading, as though they had been written just yesterday.
Was he just imagining, or did the papers have an unearthly glow?
As though drawn by a mysterious, invisible force, Nils walked towards the stack and picked up the first few papers of the pile.
Equations. Black unintelligible scribbles forming equations comprising of all kinds of symbols. The black mass was like a fungus, spreading over the entire sheet of paper most carelessly.
Nils shook his head and sifted though the rest of the papers. More scribbles. More unreadable equations. Mathematical formulae that did not make sense.
One of the papers grabbed his attention. It had been violently crumpled and stamped on, yet it was smoothed out and there had been attempts made to get rid of the unsightly creases.
"2 energy equals to the mass of fifteen molecules of spiritual essence," Nils read out loud, squinting at the page. "Deriving energy from spiritual essence to supplement-" He frowned. There had been huge cancellations made over part of the sentence, rendering it unreadable. There was a huge cross over the entire statement and the word "immoral" written in bold over it, so hard that the paper had almost been torn.
Nils raised an eyebrow in surprise. "So my father had been a druid who was studying energy?" he asked out loud.
Proceeding, he looked through the books in the old wooden bookshelf. They were mostly books describing the conversion of human philosophy and energy and elder magic tomes. "Flux, Nosferatu, Luna, Eclipse, Fenrir, Gespenst, Ereskigal…" Nils read out the titles of the magic tomes that he was familiar with. "ERESKIGAL?"
Eyes widened in surprise, he extracted the book and flipped through the pages rapidly. It was the same dreaded magic tome, an exact replica of the one Nergal hoarded in his dark stores of knowledge.
A chill vibrated up his spine. He found it haunting to know that there was another person who could use that magic spell of mass destruction, but secretly prided in the fact that it was his father.
At the end of the bookshelf, there was another book. Leather-bound and decorated with metal filigree, it stood out from the rest, casting a soft sheen.
His long, deft fingers, flipped through the pages.
It was a diary.
Stopping at random at a particular page, he sat down on the chair and read.
Dear Diary,
I can't believe it! I have made a fantastic breakthrough! The conversion of spiritual essence to energy and magic has been a success! Now I can prove to my mentor that I was not just a weakling and that I do amount to something. My dear friend Athos congratulated me on my success with his usual friendliness. But as usual, he started preaching about how this would be effective in helping the destitute around Elibe to help defend themselves against the bandits. Before I could shut him off, he started ranting on how I must guard this method carefully and not let it fall into evil hands since it would corrupt the purity of the world…blah…blah…blah…
Yours truly
N.
"Athos?" Nils wondered aloud. "How did my father know Archsage Athos? Hmm…and who is N? My father's initials?"
He flipped to another entry.
Dear Diary,
They are going to pay. I will ensure their deaths with my own hand. They captured Nini and held her hostage! Imagine their audacity! But of course, they were no match for me, even with their divine tomes and bishops; they could not escape my Ereskigal. In fact, no one can. I have captured all of them in turn, alive, and rescued Nini. Using one of them, I have just tested out my new formulae and it works. The paladin shrieked and twisted in agony, but the result was fabulous. The spiritual essence of humans surpasses that of animals. They produce a ball of crackling energy, while the miserable tiny thing produce but a mere spot that is barely visible. Just brilliant! I am ready to get to work with the new energy bustling within me. I feel so vigorous and filled with power. I shall try the same with the rest of the captives and see if the result is the same…Hehehe…
Yours truly,
N.
Grimacing as he read, Nils skipped to the last entry.
Dear diary,
Nini said that I was going crazy with the scientific formulae stuck in my head all day. We had something like a quarrel and this morning, she left to go to the market to do some grocery shopping, but she has not returned since.
I fear that something bad has happened to her. Perhaps her actual form has been revealed, her identity discovered? Whatever it is, I will go and look for her, whatever the cost. Ninian and Nils can take care of themselves, I am sure of it. They are such independent children.
I have also progressed much further in my research. I have named this created energy 'quintessence' and it has proven that it has the ability to sustain youth, heal wounds, increase attacking power and decrease opponent's defense. However, I must beware not to fall into its trap and become its slave.
With the effective help of this new energy source, I shall find Nini and then reunite the family. Then, I shall show the world my marvelous creation and let them ponder on how to harness this life form while I look on.
Whatever it is, I will make sure that I obtain the fame, fortune and power that I have desired for all my life. I will ensure that the generations for all times shall look up to me and marvel at my name.
For I, Nergal am the one destined to achieve the impossible!
The book slipped from Nils' hands and hit the floor with a dull thud.
Nils shuddered as a spasm of disbelief tore through him. The blood in his head was pounding wildly.
Nergal…His father…Killed his own daughter for power…Murdered his son-in-law's father…Entrapped, exploited, abused them for power…Their father…
Now he knew why he was crying why Nergal died…why the tears were freefalling from his eyes…
As though he was possessed, Nils walked out of the house jerkily, taking along with him a torch. Lighting the torch against a nearby stone, he threw it at the cottage.
The cottage caught fire instantly. Its thatched roof and mud walls did not stand a chance against the heat and the flare, crumbling to the ground. The smoke rose higher and higher in a thick column, filling the air with their stinging stench. The furniture caught fire and disintegrated almost instantly, relieved to shed the burden of age. With a crash, everything remaining fell and collapsed.
Nils stood watching the blaze with a gaunt face. Soundlessly, he whimpered in knowledge of his parentage. Even when the tongues of the flames were practically licking at him, he did not move; but stood where he was, tensed and frozen.
At long last, the flames died into embers with a hiss.
Nils walked forward rather unsteadily.
There was still one object burning in a ring of smoldering coals. It was the diary.
The flames licked the book slowly, and the book retaliated the fire relentlessly. There and then, the quiet battle raged between the past and the present.
When everything was finally over, a gentle breeze swept up the ashes and sent them in the direction of the dragon's gate.