(Prompt: Well there really was no prompt to this, but it was hastly inspired by a fanart of Magus Photoshopped into a picture of a book.)
Alyss, a student scholar of Guardia, always found the mysterious legendary Fiendlord fascinating, but he was still was an agonizing subject to research. What information on this mysterious figure in history was available was shamefully terse, yet she still pressed on in her quest in the library. Hours had passed since she began her search and was already beginning to wonder how she should approach her professor about changing her research topic. The evening hours matured into the early cusp of the small hours of the morning, and yet the number of reliable sources on the mysterious figure known in history as "The Fiendlord" remained stagnant. Even in Guardia's royal library where she was given special permission to search for as long as she needed, was there hardly a touch of this strange figure who was a fading legend, yet still the subject and inspiration behind many myths and tall tales in Truce.
Another stale cup of coffee passed her weary lips and the infernal ticking of the clock rang louder as others departed the library. The smell of old musty books hung in the air like a taunting miasma tickling her already weary senses. She sat back in her chair and drummed her chewed pencil against the ancient timber table absentmindedly. Her scalp itched, her eyes needed to be rubbed, she rubbed her face in agitation.
Her back forced itself against the old wooden chair, and she was soon caught in a strange twilight between sleep and wakefulness, yet still not in that state that is capable of birthing nonsensical phantasms. It was the kind where one is attempting to find respite in an uncomfortable position, and a battle between one's discomfort and one's somniferous needs came to a dreary stalemate.
Sometimes this limbo suspend's one's mind and therefore ripe for absentminded and fanciful thoughts.
The strange figure in Guardia's history known as "The Fiendlord" was a mystic, or was he? There were rumors that he might not have been one after all, but these came from her unreliable sources. The tales that mystics tell never agree with one another, he was a savior of their kind, but later considered a traitor, but it was unknown if this was were propaganda from the royal line of their kind-that line of squat goblinoids whose respect waned in the generations due to the miserable failure of their infamous ancestor.
The accusation was that the creature dubbed "Lavos", a creature and a name that newly discovered archeological sites have shown to be more than just the tall tales of mystics, was to be created or summoned by "The Fiendlord", but at the eleventh hour vanished, and the creature nowhere to be found. Later on, there were rumors he had shown up again, but with humans by his side, and he took down his own comrades.
Later about, 200 years ago during the time of the Millennial anniversary of, a man whose description almost matches "The Fiendlord" seem to pop up in yet more unreliable sources that speak of romping wildwomen and sentient robots. Yet it had been 400 years between his first and last appearance.
Alyss turned her head desperately on the pile of books that she deemed where unreliable sources.
Among them was one most curious, a book that was obviously a work of fiction, or so she thought, but insisted somehow on being a memoir. The memoir of the famous scientist Lucca Ashtear. The autobiography spoke of fanciful things of a warped imagination, spoke of ancient civilizations, of prehistoric times, and a future she claimed to negate. How could such a rational and brilliant woman insist on the truth of such impossible things? Or did she understand well that these would be too farfetched to be believed and resigned to passing them as fiction?
Curiouser and curiouser, she found, that this if it were true-was the most thorough source about the mysterious figure that Ashtear had affectionally named "Janus". The way Dr. Ashtear spoke of him it was obvious she had a crush on this historical figure and decided to write some scandalous and self-indulgent fanfiction about him. There was even an illustration of the figure that was obviously too idealized, as idealized as the exaggerated accounts of his magical might. Maybe she had hung out with the mystics that still prayed to his image futiley too long and became enrapture by their songs of azure tresses that resembled the waves of the sea.
The weary student came to the conclusion that if she spent more time researching him, she would also become madly obsessed with him as well. As they say, with genius comes madness.
Yet, if this was indulgent fantasy, why didn't they fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after in the end? The end seemed incomplete, and at times, sorrowful. There was the dreadful account of the near fall of Guardia at the hands of Porre, and the account of what happened when she vanished-an account that sounded even more fantastical than the journey to slay Lavos.
Alyss had not completely made her way to the end of the book, in fact she had merely skimmed its preposterous contents. As she did, a flicker of a word passed her glance, a flicker from a page near the end. Actually it was an unusual pair of words, but one expected from the feverish mind of Ashtear. They were the pairing of the words "Janus" and "hero".
Curious. Oh look, another idolized account of the man, somehow appearing out of nowhere to save the day, and was responsible for stopping Porre from completely obliterating Guardia and ensuring it would have a better future. She just laughed and smirked at this account.
It was then that drowsiness won the stalemate.
When she woke up, the sun was rising. The unfortunate position of her back pined to be released of its torment. Empty coffee cups strewn all over the old desk along with the scant reliable books and the piles of bizarre fantasies.
A new addition appeared on the table. It was a set of royal documents dating from 200 years prior. She carefully donned her antiquarian's gloves and lifted the aged parchment.
Most were letters from Queen Nadia during her days as a princess.
And that name stuck out like a blemish.
"Janus"
"Magus"
"I think Janus is coming over tonight, oh he is so irritable sometimes!"
"Sometimes I still call him Magus, but I wonder how he feels about that name. It's nice to have someone else who understands life as royalty."
"I don't think anyone is going to believe Lucca's memoir."
And then there was one in another handwriting. Someone else's handwriting.
A letter to Queen Nadia congratulating her on her wedding and coronation.
A letter from someone named…
…Janus Zeal.
