The Academy of Secretorum Hermetis, one day after arrival
Nfirea was fidgeting in the chair of the room he'd been given, unable to soothe his nerves after having met with his new "teachers", the mysterious trio that they were. He hadn't much of a chance to talk with them before he was whisked away by servants of theirs, taken to the place where he would be sleeping and studying in for the foreseeable future.
At first, he wasn't sure what exactly he was looking at, seeing blobs of a murky, shapeless substance pool around their feet and gathering themselves in a sizable puddle. Once they reached an appropriate size, they rose up, taking shape before his eyes into something both familiar and completely alien.
Two of them had grabbed his arms, pulling him along on a predestined path to begin his training, or so he thought. They were still forming while they dragged him along, color infusing itself into their gelatine, moist bodies.
"Wait, Master Hermetis!" He had called out then, "What are they doing? I thought I was supposed to begin my training! Where are they taking me?!"
Panic and his prior fears that the entire experience was merely a ruse to capture him for a nefarious purpose rose like bile in his mouth. Already, a panic attack was rearing its ugly head, ready to debilitate him and completely knock him out like it had prior.
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately depending on where it went, Master Hermetis answered him. It was difficult to describe the way his voice sounded, simultaneously coming directly from his mouth and somehow in his own head.
"The mind is the first obstacle we must overcome in our lives," he echoed, his voice both young and old now. "It is the source of our greatest pains, our worst fears. If you can overcome that hurdle, than anything else is possible, but only if you're willing to see it through."
Whatever magic that Secretorum Hermetis used ended, stopping the splitting headache that was forming. As easily as a stringless puppet, he was dragged along. He looked at his handlers then, holding back a strangled gasp at seeing the monsters that gripped him.
They were dressed in fine attire, dark blue suits, with a lighter shade vest and sea green tie. Their dress shoes made a harsh clacking noise on the wooden floor while they took him out of the meeting room. One of them pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing away at his forehead.
In any other situation, they would've been ordinary butlers, at least until one saw their face, or lack of it.
Up until the neck, their skin color was a fair shade, but then above an visible line was simply… nothing. There were no eyes, there was no nose, and there was no mouth. No prominent cheekbones, or defining aspects of the face. Indeed, there was just an expansive, blank canvas as white as chalk, completely smooth and barren of blemishes.
One looked at him, tilting its head in curiosity once they had fully left the room. Its face rippled, a wave of fluid disturbing the calm surface. Nfirea had the strange urge to poke it, to see if he could create more waves on the creature's face.
"Where are you taking me? Please, I came all the way here, I don't want to think I'm being led astray here," he tried to appeal to the servants, prodding for some idea of what they were doing.
There was no response save a soft gurgle. The pace of the well dressed slime-like creatures quickened, however. Did they respond to his request nonverbally?
Through an endless sea of hallways, Nfirea became dizzier and dizzier, trying to keep track of all the twists and turns they made trying to reach their destination. For a place meant to be a simple cabin, there was enough space here to possibly house the entirety of Carne Village and then some.
It was incredible, seeing firsthand how the place expanded and grew before his eyes. He couldn't stare for too long, the swirling designs of the wall moving and slithering in a macabre imitation of an ocean's surface.
Logically, Nfirea knew he was likely looking at an optical illusion, either brought on by the magic of the academy or by the way the designs were carved. At times, he felt like he could see words in-between the swirls, but when he tried to focus on them, they simplified into nonsensical scribbles.
Even the floor beneath his feet didn't feel steady, but that could be because of the fact he was practically carried by the servants of the academy. The few times his feet did touch down, though, it felt like he would slip if he didn't constantly watch where his feet were going.
That might have been because the hallways were especially dark, no windows to the outside to light the way properly. Everything was bathed in an eerie, ghostly-blue glow, dim but just enough light that he could make out vague shapes in the darkness. His eyes hurt when he tried to focus on what was deeper down the hallways.
A door appeared in his line of sight, the monstrous servants stopping in front of it and setting him down gently. One reached around him, grabbing the door handle and letting him inside. He had hesitated then, waiting to see if they would do anything else before he was fully allowed in.
When he glanced at them, they stared expectedly but patiently, their hands folded in front of them. They were unnaturally still, not even breathing, the very image of a statue. Deciding there was nothing to gain by waiting, Nfirea finally entered, to which the servants quietly closed the door behind him.
Taking the time to familiarize himself, Nfirea made sure to explore every centimeter of his new room, stunned by the extravagance and bizarre nature of the place.
Parts of the walls extended out in geometric shapes, both hollow and staggered to make a sort of shelf system where he could place his items. There was regular furniture in there, like chairs for the long table where he could eat, a desk where he could study, and a lavish bed fit to rest a king.
Yet, there was an equal amount of "self-growing" furniture as he called it, which resembled roughly hewn stone overlayed with barnacles and strands of seaweed. The reason he referred to this particular brand of furniture as "self-growing" was because it would dissolve into the ground when he touched it, and he found that when he willed it, the rock would reappear in whatever shape he needed.
At first, there were just random pillars of the material littering the room. It took him longer than he'd like to admit to learn the material's exact nature, but once he did, they became quite convenient.
Despite appearances, they were comfortable. No sharp angles poked him in sensitive places, and the barnacles crawled away to give him room to sit or lounge as he pleased. Sometimes they would support him, alleviating any pressure in his back that he might've had.
Which is how he was here now, laying flat on a couch of the basalt-colored rock, humming to himself. His fingers were interlocked over his stomach, and he looked at the ceiling to see if he could make out any words.
It probably hasn't even been a full day, but it feels like I've been in this room for ages already. My brain is about ready to explode from trying to figure out if these squiggles mean anything.
He glared at the designs, daring them to reveal their secrets, if such a thing was to be had. Evidently, they called his bluff, as they remained infuriatingly incomprehensible.
With a sigh, he sat up. "Am I supposed to just wait, or should I go out and do something with the free time I have? I already ate, so maybe some light reading would be nice."
To his disappointment, the shelf of living rock that he deduced served as a bookcase was empty. It seemed if he was to have entertainment of any kind, he would need to find it himself.
He went to the door, deciding he should try and find the library that would surely exist in the academy. Perhaps by finding some new material to read and study up on, he could further impress his teachers with his technical skill when the time came.
However, his hand hesitated when he reached for the door knob. An ominous sense of foreboding settled over him, his anxiety spiking for some strange reason. It chilled him to the core, every alarm bell in his head going off all at once.
No… I'm fine, I'll be fine. I'm just going to explore for a bit, try to find some books and come back. Whatever I find out there, it's all a part of the program… right?
Steeling his nerves, he grasped the knob and slowly turned it, the ice-cold metal creaking. Opening the door a hair's-width, he peeked through the crack to see if he could see anything coming his way that might explain the feelings he just had.
Looking down both directions, there was nothing to be had. This emboldened him to come out of the room completely, still glancing around for anything out of the ordinary. Before he fully closed the door, a thought occurred to him, regarding how he might find his way back if he did achieve his goal.
This place was unknown to him, and it defied his understanding of how internal spaces worked. Given that the academy was so much larger on the inside, he couldn't guess as to where things were situated and how he'd find them in the first place.
He'd need something to mark this door as the one to his room. Something that could be easily identified and would be just out of place enough for even the academy. But what? What could he use?
I think my pack should be just fine. I can just leave it by the door as a marker, and it would be much better than sticking a slip of paper in the door or leaving it slightly ajar. One of the servants might come back and close it by accident, or throw the paper away.
Beelining back into the room, he grabbed his pack, making sure to gently pull out all of his belongings and place them on the bed. He would put them away later, when he came back.
His hand brushed against the lantern that had appeared in his backpack, the one he had no memory of packing. He stared at it a moment, choosing on a whim to bring it along with him. Searching through the pack yielded a small pack of matches he could use to light it.
Coming back out, he went down the hallway to his right after depositing the pack outside. Peculiar shapes danced on the walls from the illuminated source he carried in his hand. Wherever he was meant to end up, he was sure it would help lead to the library.
A gut-feeling told him he'd find not only a way to pass the time, but an answer to some of his questions. Knowledge that would open his eyes to what was going on around him. He just had to make it there first.
The Private Office of Tabula Smaragdina
"Oh my god, why the hell did I say that to him?! I was trying to be comforting, but I sense all I did was make the boy's suffering worse," Tabula muttered to himself, his head in his hands.
"Oh come on man, I wouldn't be too worried about it. He didn't look disturbed by it, plus I think it really set the mood for this place," Small Cuttlefish said, patting him on the back.
Tempest Aizawa grunted. "The kid's got strength if he didn't freak out the moment he saw the shoggoths. Not sure how well he'll hold up though once he sees everything else this place is holding."
Tabula's tentacles twisted themselves from his incredulity. "That's the whole point! I mean, I've never had to deal with somebody who has obvious untreated trauma. Closest thing we have to a doctor is Ariel in Nazarick, and she's only a nurse! I feel like what I said was more out of panic than actual reassurance."
"And? That doesn't make what you said any less true. Nfirea's going to need all the advice he can get, and what better way than reminding him that it's a symptom of his mind," Cuttlefish asked, "Think about it. We might not be the most equipped to be therapists, but what we do have is knowledge, lots and lots of knowledge on how to take your mind off your troubles. It's probably even better than therapy."
"I wouldn't know how official therapy plays out anyhow. We've got healers back in Nazarick right? Someone besides Ariel that can take a look at him and give us a second opinion. Once Rubedo, Citrinitas, and Nigredo get back, we can ask them about it," Aizawa shrugged.
It was just the three of them currently in his private quarters, which he set up to resemble as closely as possible what he had back in Nazarick. The aesthetic fit well with the theme of the academy, so there was no reason to change it up.
His NPCs were currently back in Nazarick to avoid suspicion that they left. They would be back later in the evening after checking in with Albedo and showing themselves as much as possible to the others.
Which reminded Tabula to look at the Scrying Mirror he had set up, so he and his friends could watch Nfirea and observe how well he was adjusting. It was part of the reason why they hadn't sent anyone or gone themselves to grab Nfirea for "lessons".
So far, the traumatized boy was striding down the hallway, lantern in hand and a determined expression to boot. At least, he seemed determined. The bangs that covered his eyes made it somewhat hard to tell.
"Regardless, I'm surprised he took the initiative to go out and explore on his own," Tabula said, "Maybe what you guys are saying was right. I guess it's a good idea we didn't stock up on books for him to read, so he'd try and go find the library. Actually, this may be a good opportunity to just… sit and watch what he does with himself here."
"What, you mean like a test? He's not going to just get so hopelessly lost and end up starving in a dark corner somewhere, is he?" Cuttlefish asked.
"No, he shouldn't. The summons have been strictly instructed to help him out however they can, plus the magic of this place should eventually lead him to whatever destination he has in mind. So long as he keeps his eyes on the prize, he won't get lost."
All three of them watched the mirror then, seeing Nfirea come upon a cross-roads in the hallway he was walking down. There was a path going straight forward, and then two other paths that respectively went left and right.
Here, they saw the young man pause, debating on which direction to take. In the feed Nfirea placed a right hand on the wall, following that to make his decision.
"Oh, he's treating it like a maze!" Cuttlefish exclaimed, "But isn't that only if you wanted to find the exit?"
"He might be using it to keep track of how many turns he's taken. It's obvious he's figured out this place is massive, so this might be his method of exploring without taking a wrong turn somewhere," Aizawa said.
"Whatever the case, I think we should throw him a bone and make the path back to his room as straight-forward as possible. That's… that's something we can do, right, Tabula?"
The brain eater didn't speak, too focused on what was in front of him to really reply. He had pulled up the chair at his desk so he could sit. He rested his head on his hands, his tentacles splayed on the floor and writhing on their own.
Alright Nfirea, the NPCs think you could be a great apprentice for me, but I don't have any idea how I could teach you. Unfortunately for you, you're going to have to be my lab rat here. There should be all sorts of magic items all over the place, and the summons will be wandering around changing the rooms and hallways. Show me that talent of yours. I want to know what it is that Rubedo saw in you.
Nfirea came again to another set of crossroads, numbering this as the third he found while exploring the hallways of the seemingly endless academy. Each time, he chose to take a right, keeping his hand on the wall and following it until the next turn came up.
He remembered this particular trick from his grandmother, who used to amuse herself with mazes she designed herself, drawing them up for her friends and neighbors to try and complete.
"I learned a long time ago that one of the best and fastest ways to complete the maze is to always stick to the right side," she told him, when he was much younger. "Even if you hit a dead-end, you just keep to your right and you're bound to make your way to the exit eventually!"
If this was the third crossroad he took a right in, then the fourth would eventually make its way back to his room by process of elimination. He highly doubted that the halls twisted and turned by themselves, so logically, he should just end up back where he started. It wasn't his original intention, but he wanted to get a feel for the place first before he decided to try venturing further than the mental square he drew up in his mind.
Placing his hand on something sturdy also helped to orient himself better, as there were times it felt like the floor was sliding away from him, itching to make him trip and hurt himself. He didn't understand how anyone in this place could walk normally, unless they were floating or slithering along the way.
The wood under his hand felt smooth, the bumps and crevices of the carvings pleasing to the touch. At times, it didn't feel like wood at all, but like damp stone. He pondered what kind of tree would produce such a material, but figured it was likely a material from the home of Master Hermetis and his associates.
Strangely, as he progressed to the next upcoming turn, he felt like the wall was getting damper and damper, to the point of becoming outright moist. The grooves and ridges became noticeably pronounced, jagged and sharp.
He checked to see what he was touching, recoiling when he realized that the surface of the wall was no longer wood, but the same type of basalt that was present in his room. At least, that's what he thought, but ordinary rock did not give under his hand so easily.
This was right before he was slated to take the next right coming up. He slowly extracted his hand from the wall, gagging as a thin membrane clung to his fingers like mucus. The darkness at this junction got heavier, oppressive in its weight. It was far too humid for a place that was essentially an oversized log cabin.
A red glow permeated from the walls when he turned the corner. There was a faint pulsing deeper in the hallway, and the air was pungent with a metallic scent. The light of the lantern inexplicably dimmed, beaten back by the subtle red palette of the new area he wandered into.
It was here that he saw a new door was left ajar, allowing him a clear view into a room and its contents. What he saw made him raise an eye-brow, but a sense of wonder and curiosity filled him despite his observations.
The room was clean, almost unusually so. It was the same type of wood as the original hallway, but set into a square, bedroom sized area. It was almost completely empty, save for a ebony-wood pedestal that was situated in the dead center of it. Upon the top of it sat a slab of emerald-green material, a stylus for writing placed neatly beside it.
What's this doing here? Shouldn't this be close to the library, or managed by a custodian? It looks like a writing tablet of some kind, but I feel like it's made too extravagantly for that to be the case. What's with the mirror at the back of the room too?
Sure enough, he noticed there was a massive, ornate mirror placed upon the back-wall, one of those ones that wouldn't look out of place in some nobleman's manor. The surface of it was split into twelve smaller rectangles surrounding an enlarged thirteenth segment.
He looked out of the room and down the hallway he originally was going to go down. He frowned, seeing the foreboding nature of it. Despite his desire to continue exploring, he thought that going down that way when his lantern provided so little light in the first place might not be a good idea.
His mind made up, he quickly slid through the doorway and found himself inside. He scanned his surroundings one more time, making sure some hidden horror wasn't waiting for him in an unseen corner to lounge out and maul him.
It was compact and the light of his lantern could reach the dark corners better. He could even try and use a [Continual Light] here if he still wasn't content with the lantern. He would be able to adjust the brightness of his spell as he needed, and it would remain rooted in a place of his choosing.
Satisfied there was nothing, he cautiously but steadily approached the pedestal, setting his lantern down and shuttering it next to the emerald tablet. He raised a hand, pointing it at the ceiling.
"[Continual Light]," he chanted, his mana decreasing and flowing up and out of his finger tips. A light like a miniature sun blazed above him, illuminating everything in sight. The glare from the mirror reflecting it nearly blinded him at first, so he had to tone down the brightness so that he could see.
With that settled, he focused on the object, taking in all the little details that he could of the artifact. Now that he could see it clearly, it more closely resembled a book made of the gemstone Emerald than a solid tablet. He could see the pages, tinted on their edges a lighter green, and a stylus that was actually a fountain pen.
He reached out to open the book and peer at its contents, but he stopped himself before he could indulge. The very tips of his fingers crackled with energy, signifying that his talent was beginning to activate.
The book must be restricted in its use somehow, protected by one of its qualities. I should be able to pick it up and use it without any consequences, but who's to say that the nullification of the first restriction doesn't somehow activate another one?
His eyes flickered to the mirror, its polished surface glaring back at him from the light of his spell. While he had diminished some of the brightness, it was still enough that he couldn't stare directly at it without hurting his eyes.
Taking a break from the book, he walked over to the mirror, hovering a hand over it to see if there was also a restriction placed on it that would otherwise prevent a person from using it. Not that he didn't believe it could be done, but the mirror was large enough that an ordinary person couldn't just pick it up and use it for whatever purpose it was designed for.
Nothing reacted with him, which meant there wasn't a restriction placed upon it, but that didn't necessarily rule out that the mirror wasn't magical in nature by itself. It just meant there was nothing in place to prevent him from tapping into its power, if it had any.
An assumption could be made that it was, if only because why else would this mirror specifically be placed in the same room as the emerald book? That didn't sit right with him, but from an initial glance, he didn't know how he could test the mirror safely to determine its effects.
When he turned away to go back to the emerald book, he could've sworn he saw something out of the corner of his eye dash across the surface of the mirror. It looked like a shadow, but he couldn't be sure as by the time he turned back around to see, it was already gone.
He squinted his eyes in suspicion, but ultimately determined it was a trick of the light when he didn't see it again. The room was too small to hide anything here, even if a servant were to suddenly arrive. For now, it would be best to just check out the book and read its contents.
Once again before the emerald book, his fingers continued to crackle until he actually made contact, the energy ceasing all together and signaling to him that the previous restriction was no longer in play for him and him alone, and the owner of the book. He cracked it open, feeling the thin pages crinkled under his fingers.
His talent would allow him to pick up and utilize any magical item he came across, regardless of whatever rules or regulations were placed upon it to prevent its use by an unauthorized party. There were not many times he had to use the talent over the course of his career, if only because he was a pharmacist by trade and every magical tool he used was owned by him and his grandmother.
Usually it was instantaneous, but it appeared whatever restriction was on the book was particularly strong. Words on the pages didn't actually appear until he flipped to a page, and they slowly came into existence when he was on the page. He hummed in thought, appreciating the magic that went into preserving the book's contents.
If I had to guess, I'd say this book was enchanted not to let anyone besides the original writer be able to read the contents. It must be the same kind of magic that was used on the letter used to invite me here. Still, just… what is this book? Is this all… alchemy?
Thumbing through the pages, he saw a number of diagrams depicting the human body and an assortment of various herbs and chemicals. He saw strange, geometric shapes with lines pointing off to lettering in a language he couldn't read.
Some pages were just journal entries, or experiment notes, a guess he made based on how they were primarily text based with underlined terms he thought were dates. Occasionally, another diagram would show up on those pages, but their meaning was lost upon him.
The deeper he got into the book, the more excited he became, recognizing pages that had a sequence of numbers arranged in lists, like what a recipe book would have. Intricate drawings showed off different parts of a process he assumed was potion making, but in a way that was foreign to him.
He realized he must have been reading through the research journal of a past student of the Secretorum Hermetis, or perhaps the very teachers who invited him here in the first place. Temptation very much clawed at him to take the book, to keep it with him and use it to help jumpstart his learning experience.
While peering down at his new found treasure, out of the corner of his eye he spotted that same shadow from before, causing him to glance up quickly to try and catch what it was that eluded him. Again, the mirror was pristine, not so much as disturbed by his movement.
His hand lingered on the emerald book, scooping up the pen next to it and placing it on top of it so he could take both things and go. The same tingle of energy came from the pen, confirming that, like the book, there was a restriction on it. He didn't move from his spot, but he stared into the mirror, his own eyes glaring back at him from the central cell that occupied the majority of the mirror.
Doing this, he realized the shadow was back, lingering in one of the smaller cells just outside of his sight. When he focused on it, it disappeared from that spot and reappeared in another glass cell opposite of where he saw it last.
Everytime he did this, the shadow would vanish from his direct line of sight, always remaining just on the edge of it. Frustration mounted up in his chest, eliciting a groan from him. Faintly, he could tell the dark mass was gaining a definitive outline, but what it was truly was lost on him.
He was so obsessed with catching the shadow with his gaze that when he finally settled his vision back on the central rectangle of the mirror, he noticed that the door to the room had closed. His head whipped around when he saw that, noting that the door had, indeed, quietly been shut.
To add onto his alarm, there was no door handle on the inside of the room. While he could see the outline of the door itself, there was no way he could open it back up to try and get out. He ran up to it, pushing against the door to no avail. He braced his shoulder against it and grunted with all his strength, but it refused to budge.
Damn it, I'm an idiot! I should've propped it open in case something like this happened, but I got too engrossed in the book! I can't even read it, but it's just too mysterious to not have studied it.
Sighing with resignation, he returned to the pedestal and picked up the pen and emerald book. Holding it now, there was a certain heft to it beyond just paper and cover. Perhaps it really was crafted from real gemstones, and the paper some sort of exotic wood.
The pen itself had that same weight to it, and it was intricately carved and shaped to perfectly fit his hand. Feeling along the edges of the tool, he found a button on the side of it.
Pressing it made a strange clicking noise, but one that showed the tip of the pen disappeared, replaced by the familiar length of a wand, like the one that Enri had gifted him before he left to the academy.
"Huh. Feels like this gives credence to the idea that the pen is quite literally mightier than the sword," he joked to himself, trying to make light of the situation. Sadly, there was no-one to enjoy his musings with him.
Oh well, perhaps the mirror could aid him in some way.
With book and pen-wand in hand, he returned to the mirror, hovering his hand to double check for any restrictions he may have missed. It remained infuriatingly inert, save for the insistent shadow that always remained at the edge of his eyesight.
A choice was made to outright touch the mirror, to see if that would create a reaction that he could use to further deduce the purpose of the item and why it was set up in the room with the emerald book. Rather than his finger, he tapped the central cell with the pen-wand.
The surface of the mirror rippled, tinkling as the glass bent and flexed from the touch. Nfirea recoiled instinctually, stepping back from the mirror in case it was about to explode. There wasn't much in the way of the room's furnishing he could hide behind, so he ducked behind the pedestal and hid.
When no shards of glass shot outwards, he nervously peeked his head over the pedestal, seeing the mirror return to its original state of calm. He waited about a minute or so before he got back up and stood in front of the mirror again.
Strangely, he noticed that now his reflection was gone, showing only a bare room. The door was left ajar, and the emerald book and pen were back on the pedestal in the mirror. Frowning, he re-checked his own surroundings, seeing the exact opposite with his own eyes.
He hefted the emerald book. "What just happened? Is the mirror showing me an image of what the room originally looked like? Is this actually a type of magical painting? Can it store images of places as they were?"
Tapping the mirror again, he watched as the glass fluctuated to his ministrations. His reflection returned, as did the one of the room as it truly was, confirming at least the mirror was capable of holding onto certain previous reflections. To make sure, he shifted his head from side to side, seeing that his reflection moved as he did.
The mirror's power is the ability to preserve reflections of things past, but who's to say that's the only power it has? If this happens when I touch just the central cell, what would happen if I touched the smaller ones?
In the upper left-hand corner was the shadow, but when he focused on it this time, he was surprised to see that it wasn't evading his gaze this time around. He could well and truly study it, but the general shape of it was hazy. However, he got the distinct impression that it was staring right back at him, analyzing him just as intently as he did it.
Huffing, he tapped the lower right-hand cell, letting the mirror alter itself to show the image that might be stored on it. All of them appeared to be ordinary glass, so he had no idea what to expect once it appeared on the more spacious central cell.
Disappointingly, a reflection of the same room with the emerald book and pen on the pedestal came up, but this time the door was closed. He switched to a different cell, letting that ripple and replace the one he pulled up.
In this cell, he saw a cloaked person, placing the emerald book and pen down on the pedestal. Based on the robes and the fact their face was hidden in the darkness of their hood, he guessed that Secretorum Hermetis was the one who placed the book there. That was one question solved.
The next two reflections were more or less the same, one showing the room as it was but Nfirea walking right in. The next was of the room where the pedestal was upside down, the pen and book in mid fall. That made him lightly chuckle, and he flicked to another cell without thinking.
However, once he reached this particular reflection, he paused. His brow raised in a mixture of confusion and trepidation here, trying to make sense of what it was he was seeing. His pulse quickened, and Nfirea compulsively clutched the book to himself.
Near where the door was, he could see the shadow, its outline more refined but not so much that he could definitely say what the creature was. Rising from its back were several inky tendrils, their points aimed directly at him.
He switched to another cell, hoping to negate the spike in his fear. It was for nothing, as the next one only showed the shadow again, this time beyond the door-frame and slightly closer to him. He could see a single, glowing orange eye in the center of a bulbous head.
When he searched for a new cell, the result was the same, the shadow getting closer and more detail revealing itself to Nfirea. He saw several sharp points jutting along the length of the tendrils on its back, either spikes or teeth.
"Nope! No no no no! I'm not going to play this game with you," he shouted suddenly, not allowing himself to check another cell. He ran back to the pedestal, opening the emerald book and pointing his pen-wand at the mirror as a defense mechanism.
Come on, come on, there has to be something in here I can recognize! Maybe some sort of appendix, or a table of contents? The pen and the book come together, so obviously they serve a dual purpose, I just have to find out what it is!
He made sure he had enough mana to sustain the [Continual Light], flipping through page after page of what he assumed were alchemical recipes and personal notes. His hope was that he might find a passage or chapter regarding magic mirrors, or spells which might enchant mirrors to possess anomalous qualities.
There were times where the pen would glow with a soft sheen when it hovered over a word or passage. The lettering would float in place, peeling off the page and waiting for… something to happen.
Nfirea made sure to remember that for later, ceaselessly searching for what he hoped to find. He was about halfway through the book when he breathed a sigh of relief, finding a page that held a detailed drawing of a mirror, one that looked almost one-to-one with the version hanging on the wall.
"Alright, so we have the mirror here, but all the text used to describe it is written in these runes. The images don't exactly inspire much confidence either, but I suppose it's better than nothing," he muttered, trying to figure out the purpose of the item.
From the drawings, it looked like he was correct in that the mirror was able to store past reflections and hold onto them, but one of the sketches showed a person actually going inside the mirror. Another showed a hand shoving in a creature inside of the mirror, where it looked to be trapped.
Gazing back at the mirror, he saw with relief that the shadow hadn't moved any further than when he switched to the current cell. Having a vague idea of the context behind the mirror's abilities, however, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for it.
If these drawings are to be believed, does that mean it's trapped inside of there? Did Secretorum Hermetis and his colleagues place it in the mirror? Why? What would the reason possibly be? Could it… could it be freed?
Sadly, there was no-one to answer his questions, so he resolved to do his best and experiment with what he had. It was likely he was about to sorely regret what he would do, but given he himself was imprisoned in the room, he would need to take a risk.
Taking a moment to test what the wand did with the book, he discovered that when he flipped to a page with what he assumed were spells written on it, the words floated off the page and directly into the wand itself. It hummed with a high-pitched tone, and then the wand end lit up in a blaze of fire.
He stared dumbfounded at the tool. Not only was this a writing utensil that he could use in his everyday writing, but it had the capability to absorb spells just from written word? Or did the words simply activate a spell already imbued into the wand? His hand tingled from the exchange of mana, a facet of his talent. He figured that was another mystery he would need to solve with his future teachers when the time came.
Steeling his nerves, he returned to the mirror, his back straight and a determined expression on his face. "I don't know who you are or what you did to end up inside the mirror, but if you work with me, maybe we can both reach an agreement?"
The shadow gave no verbal response, but he got the impression it was watching him with interest. Nfirea took a deep breath and lifted the wand, tapping a new cell on the mirror.
Ripples of mana shimmered across the surface, humming with power. The young man's fingers tingled as his talent activated, indicating that a restriction on the mirror had just appeared.
Standing directly in front of him was the shadow itself, more grisly details revealing itself to him. It took up nearly the entire central rectangle, being pressed so close to it, but from what he could see, it was unlike anything he'd ever encountered.
At first, he couldn't tell what he was looking at, but he knew that the star-shaped hole filled with many spines was a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. There were many smaller mouths running along the chitinous shell that surrounded the gums, and overlapping between the shell and miniature mouths were the same type of glowing orange eyes.
Narrow slits like a reptile bore into his very soul, half a dozen of them filled with the sort of primal hunger that no ordinary creature could hope to contend with. It took Nfirea a moment to realize, but he saw that all other cells were blacked out, tentacles slithering between the panes of glass.
That's also when Nfirea recognized that the image in front of him was no longer a still image, but actively writhing in its confinement. Before he could react, one of the tentacles slammed on its end of the glass, making it bulge with a groan.
Nfirea yelped, aiming his wand at the beast in the mirror. "S-stop right there! You're imprisoned right? Maybe we can help each other out, you get me out of this room and I do something in return? What do you say to that?"
In response, the former-shadow monster roared, slamming another tentacle against the mirror. There was noticeably less force this time around, and he swore he saw the tip of the tentacle beckon him forth.
Hesitation stayed his hand, the wand still primed to unleash its fiery rage upon the shadow beast. His other hand trembled, not wanting to accidentally drop the book clutched to his side. The lantern he brought with him was still on the pedestal, waiting for him to come back and grab it.
Fear gripped him the same way as when he had been taken that night. He could almost imagine the orange eyes darkening to a deep shade of crimson, just like hers. He took a step back, beginning to hyperventilate.
Memories of that night began to overspill into his mind, and a single tear traced its way down his cheek. "No. No, I won't let you take me again. Do you hear me? I won't let you take me again!"
The beast recoiled as if struck, but a tentacle slammed against the glass again and the sound of shattering filled the room. Nfirea's waist was constricted, almost painfully so. Out of reflex, the wand spewed a jet of flame, smothering the mirror in pure heat and blackening the wood around it to a crisp.
Unfortunately, this seemed to do little to the monstrosity, which proceeded to drag him towards the mirror. Nfirea beat against the dense tentacle, spewing more fire as he could in a vain attempt to free himself. When that didn't work, his mind raced to think of another solution he could use to get away from his encounter with his life intact.
Wait a second, shouldn't this be a servant of Secretorum Hermetis?! It should obey their commands with no issue, so what about people they've taken under their wing?
It was a desperate ploy, but the frazzled pharmacist was willing to try anything to save himself. He steadied his breathing as best he could, glaring at the beast's many eyes to convey his message loud and clear.
"Your m-master, Secretorum Hermetis, invited me here to teach me," he said, his voice shaky but confident enough, "He told me the mind was the greatest o-obstacle to overcome, and I can't do that if you kill me. Let me go, I need to find the library."
He was still being dragged, but the pace was slowing to a crawl now. He took that as a good sign and continued. "I am his student, you were ordered to protect me, to make sure I am safe. You must help me."
For a moment that stretched into eternity, the beast stared at him with what he thought to be its equivalent of a thoughtful look. Several other tentacles sluggishly slid out of the broken mirror wrapping themselves loosely around his limbs.
In the back of his head, Nfirea thought he would be trapped like this forever, always forced to hold onto the book and wand, various tentacles slithering around his body, feeling his puny flesh beneath their suckers. He thought this… this animal would be content to bath in his misery and confusion for as long as it pleased.
And then, it spoke.
"I know."
Without another word, Nfirea was suspended in mid-air, and then shot towards the gaping maw of the monster that hid in a mirror. After that, all he could see was the complete darkness that enveloped him.
Back in Tabula's Private Office
The three heteromorphs sat there, contemplating what they just saw. Under normal circumstances, Tabula would have been absolutely horrified, thinking one of his summons had just swallowed the man he went to so much trouble trying to recruit into his program. Thankfully, he'd argue that what just happened was the best case possible.
"I completely forgot there was a Dreamling of Azathoth stuck in that mirror," he commented, reclining back in his chair. "But I think that worked out well for him in the end. Now that the Dreamling has him, it can use the mirror as a makeshift [Gate] and deposit him closer to the library."
Cuttlefish hummed in thought, her facial tentacles wringing themselves. "I didn't realize you kept such a rare summon in an Evergaol Mirror of all things. Did you just have it lying around in storage or your bedroom?"
"Knowing him, he put this item together and kept it as a regular mirror to check himself in his own room. You really do enjoy your horror movie tropes too much, having a ghost in the mirror like that," Tempest Aizawa grumbled.
At that, Tabula chuckled, embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't expecting the Dreamling to take to Nfirea so quickly. I figured it would observe and open the door for him once he figured out how my old Emerald Tablet worked. Once he wakes up on the other side, he should be fine for his next test."
A Dreamling of Azathoth was a rare and powerful summon for someone of Tabula's class, though its levels were rather low for an offensive attack based creature. While it was only level eighty, the true appeal of the summon was that it could bind itself to an area and gain complete mastery of it, altering everything at the whim of its master's specifications.
What this meant was that, at the direction of its summoner, it could set traps for unsuspecting players or mobs, acting as a distraction for the summoner to swoop in and take the kill, or otherwise capture and incapacitate their target.
The size of the affected area was rather small, about the size of the room that Tabula had set up for Nfirea, but that was usually all it took to be able to make use of the Dreamling of Azathoth's abilities.
As for the Dreamling being in an Evergaol Mirror… Well…
"Seriously? Was your Gap Moe really acting up the day you decided to store the Dreamling in there?" Cuttlefish asked incredulously, "I figured you'd want to keep it around, but come on."
Tabula huffed. "You're just jealous that I still have my own, and yours got blown to cinders by Dynamite by accident. I still have a spare one though if you'd like to keep one around for yourself. Might help to organize your room and spice things up."
"She'd probably keep it in a jar somewhere, make it look like one of those preserved body parts that mad scientists would keep around. Think it might help set the mood for your room," Tempest said in a rare moment of jest.
Cuttlefish groaned at the remark, and Tabula lightly laughed, focusing his attention back on the Mirror of Scrying to keep track of Nfirea's whereabouts. The image was still black, so that probably meant that he was still being transported to his next area. That might give him enough time to go and check in on his other projects.
He stood up from his chair. "You guys mind watching things for me over here? Nfirea will likely be out for a while before he regains his bearings, or even arrives to the next part of the academy. I want to make sure my other projects are coming along for our first lesson."
"Sure, go do what you need to," Aizawa waved him off, "We'll message you when we get a clearer image."
With that, Tabula left the room entirely, making a few quick turns through the hallways to get to where he needed. He hadn't bothered to put his robes back on, as he was reasonably certain that Nfirea wouldn't see him in his true form. There was no reason to worry about such trivial matters here.
Because he had been the one to enchant the building and set up the format of it all, it bent to his will the easiest, depositing him to the place of his desire with little issue or fanfare. There were two Dagon's Spawns standing guard on either side of the door, which resembled the sort that could be found in hospitals or laboratories.
A Dagon's Spawn was a rather low level summon, the sort that most players of his level didn't even bother using once they got past their early thirties. At most, they served as meat shields for magic based builds and as distractions for martial based builds. In the New World, they found a new lease on life for the Brain-Eater alchemist, serving as servants and guards for his belongings, and as security for the academy.
They, along with the shoggoths, were the most populous summons to be occupying the academy as of right now. There were some others sprinkled in here and there, such as Mind Parasites, Sirens, Mi-Go, Spawns of Chaos, Insectoid Mad Scientists, and, of course, the odd mindflayer or two. That was just a few he could name off the top of his head, but he and the others wanted to make the place as authentic as possible.
Returning back to the present, the one on the right bowed its head to him in greeting. The left remained vigilant in its guard, watching the hallways.
"My lord," it said, sounding like it was constantly sucking water while it tried to talk. "The laboratory is still under construction. It shall be finished momentarily. Are you here to check our progress?"
"Yes. Nfirea is still exploring the academy and he is otherwise busy at the moment. My Dreamling of Azathoth is taking him where he needs to go," he answered easily enough.
The summons shared a look, before they both nodded in understanding and held open the door for him. He gave grunts of thanks, striding in without looking back at the creatures. He heard the door shut behind him, and he took in everything that was happening with a studious eye.
In terms of a laboratory, he tried to set up the space to resemble his own back in Nazarick. It wasn't a one-to-one replica, as he took artistic liberties with his to fit his tastes, so there were elements that he took inspiration from to model a work area closer to what Nfirea might be familiar with.
Many tables were arranged neatly into the formation of a U, and sections were marked with tape to signify where certain tools would be placed based on their utility. There was enough room to easily house an extra two or three alchemists, so Nfirea should have plenty of freedom to move around.
One table was laden with a wide array of beakers and measuring flasks, alongside Bunsen burners, enchanted crystal digital scales, tongs, syringes, and more. Another table possessed the different ingredients of common potions in Yggdrasil, which Tabula placed out as a necessity since he had no real idea how the process of potion making might have differed in the new world he found himself in.
Cabinets and refrigerators housed more sensitive chemical substances and ingredients, as well as a proper waste disposal unit to dump any waste from the different mixtures that were sure to be made during Nfirea's time here in the academy. There was even a sink built-in to one of the tables for rinsing one's hands afterwards.
Tabula only hoped he didn't mind some of the extra company he would have to share the lab with during his visit. Speaking of which…
"Ah, Lord Tabula, an honor for you to join us. Come to check on our progress for the day?" Asked a chattering voice, like how one might speak through mandibles.
One of the summons that was setting up the Laboratory, an insectoid mad scientist, scuttled its way up to him. It resembled a bipedal fly, with bulging, multi-faceted eyes and chitin the color of excrement. It wore a lab coat, like a regular scientist might wear, but holes had been cut out of the back to accommodate a pair of wings that buzzed every few seconds.
Extra sleeves were sewn on to make way for the second pair of arms it had. It was rather well kept and clean, radiating an air of professionalism that reminded the brain-eater of his colleagues from his old life. That made him feel a tad nostalgic, as he actually got on well with his co-workers back then.
"I am, but don't let me stop you from finishing up anything," he said quickly, "Nfirea is being transferred closer to the library, so I thought I would check up on all of you."
The other five insectoids buzzed in excitement from their spots near the back, but they did not deviate from their work. One did raise its head though, staring at Tabula with its dead-eyed stare.
"Our lord is so gracious, so kind. We could ask for no better masters than the Supreme Beings of Nazarick," it hissed. The others buzzed in agreement, and another decided to also voice itself.
"Truly, to think he and the other masters would bless a lowly human with Nazarick's secrets! That human excites us! What was it that made the human so worthy of your attention, if this servant of yours might ask?"
Tabula froze, thinking about how he might answer that. Already he was beginning to grow used to the denizens of Nazarick holding him and his friends in such high esteem, given his own interactions with his personal NPCs. He wasn't sure how they might take it if he said that it was actually Rubedo who suggested the idea of taking in Nfirea.
The one who asked was promptly smacked upside the head by its fellow summon, who hissed in agitation. "Do not go asking so lightly what his designs are! That is not for us to know, what would Lady Nigredo think if she saw us now?"
All of the insectoid mad scientists trembled at her name, and they immediately resumed their work before Tabula even had a chance to correct their misconception. He almost felt a sweatdrop down the back of his head from their antics.
I did think Nigredo would get to them all so quickly like that. Perhaps I need to sit her down and have a serious talk about her behavior. When she was just an NPC, all her behavior was just for flavor text, but now it's starting to get a little out of hand.
Quietly, the mad scientists were bickering amongst themselves in a droning tone of voice, berating one another for questioning him as they did. Unsure really what to do, he elected to simply stay and watch.
A tense atmosphere settled over the whole room, the summons glancing at him nervously every-so-often. He titled his head once in confusion, which elicited fearful whimpers from them.
"You know, I'm not actually mad," he said, "It was an honest question. I do appreciate the work you're all putting towards setting the place up, so thank you."
It was a small thing for him to do, but one he felt necessary in this instance. Thankfully, it seemed to work, as now the insectoids settled down. Tabula rubbed where his nose would've been with a sigh, his thin fingers almost covering his entire face.
"Hopefully Nfirea will be much less tense than this when I finally get to teach him. The next test shouldn't be too hard on him, given his ingenuity and natural curiosity. I'll drop off some special titles with the librarian before he arrives too as a reward."