Chapter 6 – Alea Iacta Est
Emryr hurried back toward Lord Doe's mansion, drawing curious glances from everyone along the way. Students and professors watched him strangely, perhaps because of his haste, or maybe due to the bleeding cut on his cheek and the blood-stained gauze around his thumb. Whatever their reason, whispers followed him all the way home.
He didn't stop once he arrived. Emryr rushed upstairs, quickly crossed the mansion's corridors, and went straight into the library. He entered abruptly, shoulders tense, breathing ragged. Doe was seated comfortably in his usual armchair.
—"Something ambushed me," Emryr said breathlessly, collapsing heavily into a chair.
Doe observed silently, carefully examining his wounds.
—"Hm... It must have been quite something, to leave you like this," Doe replied with a tone meant to sound curious but betrayed his worry. —"What was it?"
—"Not the strongest thing I've ever faced… but it was clever. Too clever." Emryr wiped his forehead with his sleeve. —"It was following me since the ceremony. Waited for the perfect moment."
His eyes fell upon the box he still clutched tightly, almost instinctively.
"It shared something in common with you. Similar appearance. But instead of an owl with a deer's skull... it was reptilian. With a wolf's skull."
Doe remained silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
"An Ancient, it seems. I thought they'd wait longer to act…"
Doe started tapping his claws on the chair, thinking.
—"Old gods," Emryr muttered, as if reciting a footnote. —"Each ruling over an aspect of nature, sealed when Nostradamus created the modern magic. When magic became science…"
—"I see you paid attention in my ancient history lessons," Doe replied with a brief, dry laugh. —"But yes. From your description... it was an Ancient. Congratulations on surviving. Few mages could handle an incarnated force of nature, masters of ancient magic."
Doe rose and gestured for Emryr to follow.
—"You taught me well," Emryr said, trying to hide his pride. —"And that creature bet everything on a surprise attack. Do you recognize which one it was?"
Doe walked ahead toward the laboratory. —"They take many forms," Doe said, voice lower now. —"Even I haven't seen them all. This one in particular... I don't recognize."
They arrived at the lab, a spacious, ancient room filled with shelves holding jars, samples in glass containers, and old Latin texts worn by time. Circular formulas marked on the floor with vitreum still faintly glowed. The air was heavy, scented with ancient paper. The vaulted ceiling was embedded with glowing crystals that flickered gently.
Test tubes, copper pipes leading steam to small condensers, broken automatons stacked in a corner, and a large central workbench completed the space.
Emryr glanced around before speaking. —"The creature wanted the package. It must be important."
Doe nodded, placing the box onto the bench. Using one long claw, he opened it. The smell came first. Then a sound. Inside was a huge heart, still pulsing, covered in strange black markings and inscriptions.
Both exchanged shocked looks. Clearly, Doe hadn't expected the organ to still be... alive.
The heart slowly beat. As Emryr approached, it quickened anxiously, as if recognizing him.
"We have a new problem," Doe finally said, eyes fixed on the glowing formulas covering the flesh.
—"How?" Emryr whispered. —"Magic like this... that defies so many laws... must've come with an enormous price."
Doe began tilting his head nervously, like an owl. —"At least category four... Unnatural. It's been a long time since I've seen anything like this."
Doe fell silent, eyes fixed on the heart. It pulsed again, twice faster, louder. Not random. Rhythmic. As if responding to something it remembered.
To someone.
Emryr took half a step back.
—"This… can wait," Doe said, too quickly. He turned toward the door without looking at him. "Let's go upstairs. We have catching up to do."
He walked ahead, slower than usual. Pensive. His claws tapped lightly against the railing as they climbed the stairs, each step oddly precise.
Emryr followed in silence, then asked
—"You're sure it was after the package?"
Doe gave the smallest pause, half a heartbeat, before answering.
—"What else would it want?" he said, gently.
Emryr frowned. Something in that tone felt… guided. Too soft.
—"Creatures like that don't act without reason," he muttered.
—"Exactly," Doe replied, already opening the sitting room doors. —"And you had something worth attacking."
They returned upstairs. In the living room, a round table surrounded by comfortable chairs awaited them. An ornate balcony overlooked the academy's gardens. The lighting was soft. The atmosphere, briefly, felt almost normal.
They sat together, and Emryr recounted his past year of travels, research, and occasional brushes with death. They laughed, talked, joked. For a few hours, the world felt less threatening.
When the night grew late, Emryr said goodnight and returned to his room. Doe predictably returned to his laboratory, his mind already spinning with thoughts about the still-beating heart and its implications.
Back in his room, Emryr tended to his injuries. Black blood oozed slowly, thick and viscous. Even he didn't know the reason behind its color, something Doe had never explained, or perhaps chose not to explain. Maybe it related to his unique gift: a partial mastery over cause and effect, a talent demanding a steep price.
The spell he'd used to alter the creature's attack demanded its tribute. Headache, dizziness, eyes pulsing blue. And the cut on his thumb, blood thick like ink.
He lay down. Tried to sleep. Failed. As always.
His mind dissolved into possibilities. Paths that never existed. Causes that never happened. Alternative outcomes danced at the edges of his consciousness.
Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the creature's attack repeating endlessly. Sometimes he died. Sometimes he saved the box but lost his hand. Sometimes, he simply vanished.
Thinking too deeply about cause and effect… was both his gift and his curse.
And on that grey, sleepless night, as the city quietly slept, Emryr remained awake. Thinking. Calculating. Trying to find one version of events where everything made sense.
—"If a man changes his fate…" Emryr whispered to the dark,
—"…was he always meant to do so?"