Chapter 2: Deus lo vult
One, two, three- maps went flying, books were skimmed and tossed aside as soon as it was clear they were void of any useful information.
The dim light of sunrise kissed the tinted window just at its brink and a ray was cast across the sturdy old desk settled inside the study.
The material was less than adequate and Izaya's butt hurt from merely sitting on it for one hour. As expected from a medieval setting- because it seemed this was what it was.
The time.
The setting.
Letting his thumb run across another set of yellowed pages Izaya tried to read what was supposed to be some kind of collection of historic events.
Sleep had been graciously skipped as Izaya had slipped out of what appeared to be his chambers to wander through the manor. Or castle- what even was his standing?
He wasn't quite sure. They had called him lord, but whether or not this was a title worth a dime was an entirely different question.
Dusty pages were flipped and paragraphs about their rural warfare skimmed.
Three hours. That's the amount of time it had taken Izaya to get a hang of the foreign symbols. While their language seemed to be the same when it was spoken it was a completely different matter when it came to writing.
Dots and lines of different angles and numbers were what decided their meanings and spelling. It was only due to the letter he had found in his chamber that he got to read at all. His name had been written in romanic, a system that he was at least somewhat familiar with, but inside the envelope the cryptic dots and lines had been used.
Only by counting the letters of his name and the matching signature below he was able to deduct their meaning. Either the people of this age were trying to make reading harder than it was supposed to be or it was some kind of secret code used among aristocracy only.
Flicking out a cheat sheet that he had created on the spot, Izaya matched the content of the book with his key.
It appeared peace was something this country hadn't seen for over a century.
Counters of deaths, annual campaigns and lack of land for the new cemetery made up the main points of the yearly summary.
His previous life hadn't exactly been one consisting solely of peace, but it had definitely been way better off than this.
A set of illnesses was scorching the population according to a medical glossary. The pictures in it were quite grotesque and the description was even worse.
Izaya couldn't quite chase the goosebumps racing down his back reading about what doctors viewed as the most advanced medicinal approaches. If someone happened to faint the most common practice was to drill a hole into the person's skull and hope he would wake- or die during the ordeal.
What appeared to be simple influenza wasn't even treated by the doctors at all as fever in general was viewed as something demonic and tied closely with possession.
Everything else seemed fairly basic.
People were living, people were dying. Some were fighting over wealth and searching for love. The health standards were poor and the looks of most grotesque as no one had ever heard of a toothbrush before. The clothing matched a mixture of baroque and medieval times as frills and multiple layers appeared to be in fashion, while wigs had not been invented at all.
Even the buildings didn't differ too much in neither structure nor decoration. A sewage system had yet to be thought of and the death rate of the population lay around the age of thirty as they hadn't even heard of soap so far.
Great times, really.
Brushing across the layer of dust collecting on top of another tome he flicked through the topic differing most in this world.
Religion.
Wax dripped from the dying candle as it was growing closer to its end and Izaya reached forth while not raising his gaze, to extinguish the already vanishing flame.
What appeared to be some sort of bible was filled with texts about demons.
More than Izaya had ever heard of.
A vivid description of hell, heaven and some kind of realm in between which apparently wasn't the human's realm were described at the very beginning.
Magic too.
Letting his thumb run across his lips Izaya eagerly drowned in the newfound piece of literature.
Vivid description of spells, mages and higher priests were filling whole chapters along with sketches implying the outcome of their use. Not only did they spike Izaya's curiosity but they also made him wonder whether these were just fragments of human imagination or a real thing.
The book had apparently been written by educated monks from the central church- in other words it was not some sort of fanfiction or fantasy book, instead it appeared to be a real approach.
Putting the book down for a second Izaya leant back in his chair to gaze at the rising sun.
If this book was spelling the truth and magic as well as demons were an actual reality he had found the answer to what he had been looking for.
He had not time traveled- but actually ended up in another world entirely.
And if that was true- then that very same magic might be able to get him back.
Peaceful quiet settled with the peace as Izaya relished in the source of relief. This was just a checkpoint, a side quest in his life.
And as soon as it was done with, he was free to return home.
Raising from his seat the chair scratched awfully loud against the marble floor. The back of the book was grasped tightly as Izaya raised his toes to put it back into its original place.
A short flick of surprise slapped his face when the object came falling right back. Only by chance he caught the tome midair on its plunge to death.
Eyes were narrowed and Izaya's lips pressed as he pulled the chair over with another ear throbbing screech.
Damned book. Damned old shelves.
Stupid servants.
They had probably done a shit job at sorting the study and jammed some papers onto the shelf without care.
Annoyance marked Izaya's expression when he faced the top of the shelf.
"Of course, let's shove small books behind large ones, why not?" he cussed under his breath as he reached for a booklet not larger than his palm in the far back of the shelf.
Switching the two he finally got rid of the tome and with two more steps he was down from the chair and back in its seat.
"What is this even? A diary?" Flipping the small set of pages over Izaya looked at the object of annoyance- an object that suddenly appeared more expensive than he thought.
Layers of dust and spider webs had entangled the piece and grossed the raven out beyond description. But brushing aside a bit of it revealed colors of golden and a sturdy back.
A soft blink followed as Izaya moved to the curtains. Abusing the fabric he quickly brushed across the entire piece to reveal the title.
Deus lo vult.
"Latin?" The confusion was greater than the relief over finally finding a text he wouldn't need to transcribe before making sense of it. And the title being "god's will" was quite intriguing as well.
Maple leaves, ivy and patterns of horned angels were engraved into the metallic frame. Letting his thumb brush across the detailed craft Izaya shortly admired the delicate work before flipping it open.
Translucent white made up the pages and instantly skyrocketed the worth of the book. The pages were smooth to the touch, the letters cut clear with not a single line bleeding into a different row.
Considering printers were nonexistent in this world the quality was insane.
Frowning shortly Izaya lifted his gaze to the spot he had pulled it from.
Who on earth would jam something obviously expensive into a corner to collect dust like this? Shaking his head softly at the impudence he turned the first page and looked at what appeared to be rules. The similarity to the ten commandments came to mind at first- but the orders inscribed were nothing like them.
Eradicate inferiority.
Honor the strong.
Worship no one but the only god. It was as though someone had read about christianity, became fond of the rules and decided to create their own- but with a twist.
A set of pages was fast-forwarded as Izaya moved to what it was that this book described as "the only god."
Izaya expected to find a holy depiction of an illuminated angel or some kind of wise old man. Maybe even a young boy or mother.
But what he found was nothing like it.
Gruesome and horrendous a sight of something no movie had yet thought of displayed on a double page.
Glorified with patterns of thin gold a fusion of what appeared to be a woman's corpse sat in the midst of the page.
A jaw hanging lower than it was supposed to with three, armlong tongues of black hung from her face.
Hands had been replaced by thin stalks of spider-like claws and her eyes showed nothing but black.
No matter how he looked at it- that, was what he would call a demon. Considering they were afraid of fever it was funny that this picture did not instill fear.
Putting the booklet aside in a short splurge of engrossment Izaya hoped he would never have to engage in a discussion about their worships. If it even was a common belief.
Maybe some noble had tried to start a cult and paid for the object to be done.
It would explain why it was hidden so far beyond the other tomes.
Taking his seat at the table he picked up a quill to the far right of the desk.
Now that he had adequately analyzed his situation it was time to get down his more personal basics.
Getting back was his number one priority- and probably possibly with magic actually existing.
The question was- back to where?
Dragging the tip across the paper letters formed in a short summary of blotched ink. His memory was jagged, yet oddly complete.
He knew his name.
Izaya Orihara.
His surroundings. Ikebukuro, Shinjuku, Japan, mount Fuji- he remembered history, mathematics, physics, concepts of social interactions, the internet, phones, his work- he had been an information broker and a damn good one.
Everything was there- with the sole exception of relations.
He remembered not a single person. Did he have a family? Friends? A lover? Children? Parents? Siblings?
He had no idea.
It was as if someone had wiped all social interactions from his mind. While replies to conversations and ends of arguments were all there he had no face to associate them with.
It was an extremely weird sensation- like the moment you think about a topic and you know the answer to but it just refuses to come to mind.
But why? It was a phenomenon too weird to call a coincidence or random trait.
There was only one of two options, either his rebirth was made at random and his memory had somehow remained partly intact, or someone had made him appear in this world with the specific knowledge given.
Question was, who and why?
Letting his head thud against the shelf a short smile drew upon his features.
There was a third option.
He might as well be inside some sort of comatose state and this was what his brain came up with for the time spent.
A quick set of knocks flicking against the outside of the door's frame snapped Izaya out of his thoughts.
Quickly shoving most of the papers and books aside he adjusted his attire.
"Yes?" Moving under protest the heavy door was pushed inside revealing one of the maids. Izaya recognized her as one of the many servants that had been standing around him when he fell to his not so permanent death.
She was pretty. Holding some freckles under her green eyes along with braided brown hair created a nice picture overall.
"The cook-" she stuttered before quickly clearing her throat. "The cook is asking whether you are joining breakfast or not, my lord." Hesitation and fear somehow seemed to mark her words as she did everything in her power to avoid Izaya's gaze.
Were they on bad terms?
Putting one of the last books present aside he glanced towards the window. The sun had left the tree's tips behind, considering the season of spring it was probably around eight. As far as he remembered time was a pretty free concept in the middle age and seeing as his surroundings were pretty similar despite the few differences he figured they didn't really have a fixed concept of time either.
Leaning back in his chair he hummed shortly.
Breakfast.
He had never really been someone who enjoyed having it. But it was a good way to get in touch with his new family, wasn't it?
"I will be there in a few minutes," he announced curtly with a short nod to himself.
Silence greeted him instead of a confirmation and his eyes trailed to the maid- only to see her frozen.
Horror displayed on her face- why? Izaya had no idea.
He held a smile as pure as anyone would in this situation.
Lips stuttering a few words under her breath the maid quickly nodded and before Izaya could even get to ask what had freaked her out she was gone.
What was that?
The reaction was a bit exaggerated, no?
What did he use to do? Hit her? Rape her? He seemed to be some kind of aristocracy and looking at history and the people in power there were some psychopaths mixed in more often than not.
Looking at the shelves he had searched all night a sigh escaped his lips.
Whatever.
Fact was, he wasn't going to get much more knowledge from this room and that needed to change. Acquiring its former position by the desk, the chair was pushed towards it as Izaya made his way towards the hallway.
The sister seemed fairly cute and the father like a capable head. Even the mother with all her swooning was obviously just concerned with her son's health.
He could really have had it worse.
"No!"
Startled by the clear tone, Izaya's body jerked midway.
He was in the middle of the hallway leading to the stairs up ahead- symmetrically in shape they were aligning to a large entrance and the only connection point to all four aisles. He recognized the voice.
It was lord Montisquieu's mother.
Slowing his steps Izaya advanced without making the slightest sound. A figurine displaying a half naked woman and a set of fat angels grasping what looked to be a vase was conveniently stationed in front of the flight.
"It's not normal I tell you! He stood up like nothing happened!" Low deep. Izaya didn't need to be a genius to recognize the voice as the mansion's lord.
The voices came from down below, probably right underneath Izaya's ground. He couldn't see shit, but he could definitely hear- and he didn't like what that was.
"I'm sure it was just luck, the window wasn't too far up and-"
"Jump out of the window then and repeat the same."
"Darling you can't be serious-"
The voices were hushed, the conversation not meant to be heard by anyone and finally Izaya caught a glimpse of the two. Walking forth from the hallway underneath Izaya quickly pulled his body from their vision.
His eyes narrowed and he held his breath.
They were talking about him.
Or rather, about their recently deceased son.
Walking forth the woman finally stepped up to a large window, reflecting enough for Izaya to see. Her expression was despairing. "... he is still your son-" she pleaded and Izaya's eyes finally fell on the father. His expression was set in stone.
Dead serious with not a shred of sympathy.
"Is he? Have you seen the look in his eyes?" he spat lowly and his words only felt so much more void than his face, "He is possessed I tell you. Something evil has claimed his body. This is not our son anymore." Like iron striking skin the woman flinched as she averted her gaze.
It seemed as though she was trying to unhear what her husband had said.
And suddenly his tune turned gentle, and a hand found its way to her shoulder.
"You noticed it too, didn't you?" he whispered and the mother shook.
"He must be injured. After hitting his head- Give him a few days. Maybe he will return."
A deep sigh pried from the lord, but he nodded and his wife's eyes lit up. "... I pray your words will be the truth. But if they aren't we will have to kill him."
to be continued~
Death threat incoming in chapter 2, check xDD This time no one is an asshole (so far lol) and the father does have a point hahaha
His son is no more~ C: and well, some people would probably agree Izaya has more demonic sides than good ones to his personality xDDD
Anyway~! Sorry for not updating at all the last two weeks, I ended up getting sick twice in a row with ended up tying me to bed for over 2 weeks straight xD So yaaaahhh xD
But next week I will update all 5 stories again on Saturday haha 3 with that being said see you then~!