163 The Edge of the Cliff (2/2)
”The Dreaming Council is a group of highly powerful conquerors who have integrated themselves into every information network on the continent, be it legal, illegal, civilian, military, or academic. They are part of a special initiative set forth to manipulate information and identify potential targets of interest that could threaten... the stability of the continent.”
The stability of the continent? Potential targets of interest? That's a bit...
Reed turned toward Lu'um, as if to seek her clarification on the matter, but she said, ”Oh, I know, dear. But I refuse to tell you. This isn't my cross to bear...” She summoned her tome and covered herself with her cloak, distancing herself from the conversation entirely.
...What the hell?
”Look, I heard what you told me, but it sounded vague,” Reed said, ”You're going to have to explain yourself with a little more detail for me if you want me to understand, Gramps. Who are these... potential targets of interest and what kind of information are they manipulating? Give me specifics. Hard facts, not just ambiguous phrases.”
Velvund took a deep breath and said, ”Son, do you know the Four Empires were founded?”
Reed tilted his head in confusion and said, ”...It must have happened after the Age of Chaos, right? So at a bare minimum, about four thousand years ago, give or take? I don't really know.”
The old Alf's eyes widened for a moment when he heard Reed reference the Age of Chaos and said, ”How do you know about that period of time, son? How was it that told you about that? That in and of itself, is another taboo that could have gotten you taken by the Dreaming Council, my son. Never, ever, reference it to anyone else. Am I clear?”
Velvund's expression hardened when we heard casually reference the hellish, forgotten period of time. Nightmarish memories from the past bubbled up, but disappeared as soon as he regained his composure.
”Oh, uh, well, I learned about it from...” Reed gave a side-eye stare toward Lu'um who had hidden underneath her cloak.
”...I see. That is fine, then. It is as you have imagined, the Four Empires were formed three thousand six hundred and eighty-five years ago to this year, after the Age of Chaos and the Unification Wars. And more than three and a half millennia, the Four Empires have enjoyed an unprecedentedly enormous period of unbroken peace.
Normal kingdoms rise and fall, my son, as if they were made of sand and built on the shore of a beach, yet our Four Empires have persisted for so long that a thousand mortal kingdoms could have been born during their tenure.
Why is that so?”
Reed froze when he heard the question that had been posited to him. It was such a good question that it had left him reeling in thought.
How have these four empires lasted so long? Even with the Four Sovereigns, it doesn't really make sense. There's bound to come a time when, for some reason, they should have fallen.
”All civilizations, kingdoms, and peoples have their time in the sun and then, they will, too, as all that had come before them, fade into the night. Nothing lasts forever, not even...”
Reed gazed at Lu'um quietly and put one his hands underneath her cloak. A hand grabbed his own and he grasped it tightly.
”So, then, how have you managed this astounding feat? ...What terrible revelation are you about to force upon me, Gramps? Lay it on me, I can handle it.”
”Lay it on me, I can handle it.” That was what his grandson had told him, thus he had brought him here. To the one of the darkest, if not the darkest place in modern times.
If Xibalba was a testament to all of the Ancient Mulian's evils, then the home of the Dreaming Council was the perfect analogue for its modern descents...
Reed, Lu'um, and Velvund continued their descent into the depths of the ancient tunnel until a certain point where they could venture further no more. An enormous, heavy gate made of warship-grade altinium stood before them, towering above trio.
Upon the colossal gate was an inscription that read: ”In the heart of all evils can be found the soul of a saint.”
”Who was that meant for?” thought Reed. He couldn't understand what was written on the door, for it was in a language not recorded in his tome's universal compendium. It was one of the hidden languages that had not been given to the three great guilds of Mulia for indexing.
Velvund walked up to the front of the gate and then spoke in a tongue unknown to Reed. It sounded very familiar though, as if he had heard it long, long ago.
Jumbled whispers and faint, repetitive echoes of sound -- as if Velvund had gotten a bee, or some kind of insect stuck in his throat...
A loud, booming clunk bounced off the tunnel's walls behind them like the hiccup of slumbering titan, and then the colossal gate slowly creaked open as it ground across the ground beneath it.
”You said you could handle it, right? This is where the edge of the cliff is, my son. If you turn back now, no one will think less of you for it. It would make me happier that you not know what lies ahead, but if you insist, then...
You can blame no else but yourself if you choose to regret the decision.”