If there was a window in this room, Lark could see the edge of Mr. Goodwing’s cape flap in the wind, heroic and masculine. That was not the case though. In front of him was a husk of that former glory, sunken eyes with bruised undertones—a tall and gaunt skeleton with pearly-white hair, which flowed to his waist.
Jody, who seemed just as surprised as he, said, “What are you doing? It’s not time for you come out yet. Your appearance…”
As she was talking, Cornelius brushed his hair back, seemingly realizing it wasn’t tied and searched for something on her desk to pin it up. As soon as he found a rubber band, he pulled his hair up high into a ponytail, letting the short strands fall around his head. The style was messy compared to Wangshi’s clean look.
“Time is time, yet soon is never soon enough or it’s too soon. But I need to talk to him. Now.”
“Is that so?” Jody pursed her lips. “Let me have one more moment, then after I’ll tend to the guests.”
“It’s not my patience you’re testing, but if you must.” Cornelius bowed his head politely to Lark. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
The bookcase wall was left open, and Cornelius disappeared into piped green walls.
Jody tugged his hands, pulling his focus away from the endless tunnel. “When I received your call, I was shocked.”
“That I survived?”
“That you were still on Earth.” Her hand trembled. “That you actually survived the Culling too. But that might be a worse fate.”
“You know about the Culling?” The strange cultist organization had called their massive-scaled attack as such, but only Mr. Federov gave him this information. No news outlet reported it as so.
“More than two-thirds of our clients are from other worlds. All of them have experienced the Culling or the aftermath of it.”
The person in front of him felt like a stranger and Jody’s eyes were void of any grandmotherly affection. Was it just a brave front, or was she really thinking they were all going to die?
“Just like your caretaker, Wang, they experienced memory loss after the transfer, but we’ve been helping them recuperate at Friledaux.”
Again, that government-run hospital was involved. Lark began piecing together the bits of information he received thus far from everyone: his grandfather, Wangshi, Mishka’s father, Sphinx, and Jody.
“Didn’t the Allied Agency get betrayed? Are the people there truly safe?”
“Corn calculated that loss, and we’ve recovered what’s left. All if not most of the spies have been eliminated since that night. I can’t say if everyone is truly safe, but it’s safer there than here tonight.”
Lark wanted to ask more questions, but Jody was quicker.
“Please understand, we are on the same side here, Lark. Your grandfather suspected something like this might happen one day and left you the ‘core’ while Cornelius chose you to inherit the watch.”
“Side? What side? Even though the world has been progressing towards peace during the last few decades with the help of this so-called technology, suddenly there’s a war about to happen? ” Lark said, finally finding his voice.
An impending war in this day and age? Impossible. Lark’s expression showed his disbelief.
“It’s not the kind of dramatic war you learn about in history books where nations fight each other over territory or economy. The landscape is simply changing in a way where it can destabilize society as we know it.” Jody didn’t seem to want to argue with him, and placed her words carefully.
“Don’t expect me to insert a global warming joke here,” Lark said pulling back his hands and swiftly rose to his feet. She was beginning to talk in circles. They weren’t getting anywhere. Corn had a better chance of telling him everything.
“No, this is something different,” She, too, rose up following him to the bookcase. “The Leylines. They were always there. We just couldn’t see it until one day we could.”
Just exactly how much did she or everyone know?
“The system is older than me if you can believe it.” She smoothed over the wrinkles on her neck and touched the pearl necklace above her throat. “Fifty years ago, we didn’t realize a small part of the world had changed when we began using the energy to fuel the airships. But something even bigger is coming. We can’t specify, but after the Culling, there are usually two results: either we fail or we thrive.”
When he didn’t speak, Jody rested her hand against his shoulder.
“Everyone who is here tonight is ready for that fight.”
Lark’s eyes lit up. “Does that include Carson and Samuel’s father?”
“Go talk to Cornelius, he’ll know what to say,” They stood there side by side for a moment, but only Jody’s stubbornness answered him. He had to assume everyone knew more than him.
Lark’s shoulders sagged. “I won’t let this slide. When I’m done talking to Cornelius, I’ll come back here.”
“Cornelius is actually more impatient than he lets on.” She paused and looked him straight in the eye with a wary look. “Don’t come back this way,” she said and pushed his body with a sudden strength. The bookcase closed shut.
Flabbergasted by her change in attitude, Lark muttered, “What is she thinking? I can just press the button—”
His hand raised to the right where his grandfather normally placed a pull-switch to open the secret door, but there wasn’t one there.
Careful, you just passed through an illusion barrier. Sphinx’s voice intruded his thoughts.
Lark turned around. A mixture of anxiety and fear swirled in his gut as he stared at what seemed to be an endless tunnel of lichen and moss. It covered the metal pipes and woodwork in green and white splotches, seemingly growing in the darkest corners of the corridor.
A creeping onset of vertigo produced as he pressed a hand against his stomach. “Must be the appetizers from earlier.”
“How can you be scared with me around?” asked Sphinx. “Pull yourself together!”
He tried to follow Sphinx’s advice and stared down the passageway. After taking a step forward, the overhead of suspended lights snapped on and off for a couple seconds. For a fraction of those seconds, a shadow of a man appeared and disappeared into the wall next to him.
Unfuckingbelievable. Lark’s heartbeat drummed in his ears. “Sphinx, can you scan this place?”
“A scan of an illusion barrier will only tell you its dimensions and creator. It’s up to you to find the exit.”
Lark retrieved the revolver and aimed where he last saw the shadow. “You mean force one.”
A spiral of flames burst out, blackening the green moss and the hanging pipes. Immediately, a bubbly sac pushed out of the broken ducts, which began to revert the damage. Its elasticity reminded him of the bubble magic he encountered during the Redlines incident.
“Illusion Barrier (magic) (grade F)
A plant-based warding spell meant to stall intruders.
Weaknesses: Fire.
Creator: Cornelius Goodwing”
“I don’t have time for this.” He raised the revolver once more. The edges of his eyes burned as he focused on the rebuilding sac. A strange wave of energy raced through him as embers floated around his arms. Several shots flew out in succession in the shape of arrows. All targets exploded on impact.
Past the massive holes in the wall, a set of double doors hid behind the lichen. Cornelius, the mysterious inventor, greeted him from behind the fake wall. “Congratulations, you’ve exceeded my expectations.”
Everything from the strange bubbly sacs to the mossy plants returned to the original landscape. The world changed instantly, casting everything in the cool, green hues. Cornelius opened the door, going in first.
What that’s it? Lark flipped the hair out of his eyes and strode into the hidden office.
As he imagined, the author of the stolen notebook really loved books and stationery. Reference books stacked neatly up the four-walled room. A small leather couch and a couple of armchairs surrounded a coffee table. On the center back wall, appeared to be a vision board. It reminded him of Sky’s room when they worked on projects together; a visual outline of their goals. Maps of different places were connected by red string rotated on thumbtacks.
Cornelius sat first, leaving Lark standing next to the door. “That guide of yours works well. It’s only been three days since the major attack, and you’ve already accomplished so much with your intuition.”
“Honestly, what are you playing me a fool for?” He knew he sounded cold, but the rage wouldn’t stop. It seemed to build inside him, like an angry spirit fanning the flames.
“A fool? That’s far from it. But I don’t want you to stay upset, so let’s call it even. I did save your life once.”
So, it’s true then. The person who landed on the top of the bus that day and protected everyone was Cornelius. But that wasn’t important right now.
“As I recall, the Redlines’ incident started because of you. Everyone else got dragged into it. You should take responsibility.”
A look of amusement crossed the old man’s face. “You’re rather adept at bargaining. Fine. What about a gift?”
Bribery? Lark really had no idea what this old man was thinking. Were all Immortals like this?
“Take anything of interest from my bookshelf.” Cornelius looked over his shoulder, gesturing to his large collection.
“If you say so.” Lark accepted and took a closer look at the range of materials. Sphinx audibly gasped in his ear, once he caught a glimpse at a mint-green cover with an unknown author. It was Volume 1 of A Study of Hands. Lark pulled the book off the shelf and showed it to Cornelius.
“Where’s this from?”
“You sure about that one?” A hint of surprise came from Cornelius’s tone. “That a primary text of an unknown artist, I picked up from a flea market.”
Somehow, Lark didn’t believe the easy-going smile on the old man’s face. In this transaction, he had nothing to lose, but the sudden appearance of the missing volume had him confused.
“I’ll take it.” Lark shoved the book under his arm and finally walked over to a seat where he could hold an even conversation. “Jody said you would tell me everything, so where would you like to begin?”
The old man seemed to look at him with the expression of ‘just like that, huh?’ and Lark pulled the book out to explain his reasoning. “You’ve already shown me your sincerity, the least I should do is listen.”
This response pulled a chuckle from Cornelius. “Let’s start with the ring, then. I know how it works, you don’t need to be shy since I was the one who gave that to Wang.”
Lark quickly tossed the book into storage after the go-ahead.
“You don’t seem surprised that it was me,” remarked Cornelius.
“We managed to piece it together after some time, but I’m sure there is more to the story you’d like to share.” Lark’s gaze flickered coldly over the watch as he prepared the letter Wangshi showed him.
Cornelius picked up the letter, smiling. “Your grandfather used to tell me the visions he had while holding the core. They became more pronounced and vivid in his dreams like it was teaching him things he would otherwise have no knowledge of.”
“So you knew then, the ‘core’ was essentially not of Earth origin.” Lark cut over his comment, “And the Trinity Watch, Jody said you ‘gave’ it to me. I’m sure you knew they would pair.”
“You’re skipping some steps—”
“I’m aware we’re short on time. I don’t want to waste another minute on conjectures or the plans you and my grandfather thought of because they clearly backfired,” Lark said.
“A lot of our good work was largely undone by the cultists, yes. However, we still have many means of fighting back.” The old man still relaxed despite Lark’s insistence on shifting topics. In fact, a strange calm spread over the man’s worn features.
“Have you wondered why is Earth limited in mana?”
Lark nodded, recalling his talks with both Sphinx and Wangshi. “Wangshi said it’s because Earth doesn’t have spirits, which I’m guessing are entities attracted to a person’s affinities.”
“That’s mostly correct.” Cornelius reached over to a book on the table and flipped open to a page he had bookmarked. Various theories of human origin were discussed in the marked passage.
“It’s not so different from the evolution theory of why dinosaurs didn’t last. The spirits were driven to extinction by others too.”
What were spirits actually though? Beings like Nympha or Sphinx? And who or what could have the capabilities of killing them?—This was a landmine of a theory. Before his thoughts got too out of hand, Lark pointed out an anomaly, “Spirits or no spirits, how did a market develop for alien-tech if Earth doesn’t have the materials for it?”
“It’s a forced revival. As you may know, the cultists have a god-complex. Just as there’s interest in revitalizing fossils, there’s just as much interest in practicing magic. Right now, it is limited to Leylines, just as fossils are limited to the study of DNA cloning. The day draws near when these goals will be realized...”
“You’re a prime example of borrowed powers.” Cornelius indicated to the watch.
Lark frowned. Of course, Cornelius would be aware that the gains from the watch were from someone else—like gifts.
“If people can borrow power from external resources, it’s already a step towards that future.”
The mention of resources reminded Lark of the scanned items he saw in the gallery. If the merchants were Volarians, then Soko’s must have the means to world-travel to transfer the materials. Lark decided to push this topic.
“Soko’s has been buying mats from the Volarians. How?”
“I can’t tell you that yet.” Cornelius lifted up his hand. The inventor’s frail frame was bonier than what he remembered from their last encounter. Lark gritted the back of his teeth. The Volarians were somehow involved, but the Trinity Watch was made by Cornelius, and to his limited knowledge there was no production of soulsteel in this dimension.
“I’ve already given up so much to put my faith in you and the others. You’re probably aware of my relation to Joffrey, seeing as you figured out my identity.”
“Not really,” Lark admitted. “The ring used to belong to him, and the contents inside were mostly stolen. I presumed you were friends until some point because of this notebook I found. ”
At this moment, Lark decided to return the stolen notebook and pulled it out of storage. If he showed that he was nice here, would Cornelius tell him of the Volarians? Or was there something refraining him from doing so?
As soon as Lark identified the “Item: Stolen Notebook” under the Watch’s quest tab, the notebook materialized on the table.
A notification pinged to the side of the book as well. It read: “Cornelius has recovered his youthful memories. His likability towards you has increased.”
“Wow, this brings me back,” he said as he picked up the book, gingerly flipping through the worn pages and patting down the slight dog-ears at the corners.
“You haven’t said how you’ve gotten the ring yet, but if you had the ring in your possession, why didn’t you get your things?”
“I was mad at him. I still am since he made me this way.”
What does he mean by that? Learning from his mistakes with Nympha, Lark coughed into his hand and asked sincerely, “Would you mind, if I scanned you?”
Cornelius wore a confused expression at first, then an excited one. “This is the function of the core isn’t it, a high-level appraisal ability. No wonder you knew so much about the ring’s contents. Sure, go ahead.”
“Cornelius Goodwing (Cursed*-Immortal)
Titles: Inventor of the Trinity Watch, Secret-Keeper, The Herbalist
Known Affinities: Water
Age: 144
Conditions: [Cursed Time] - Spatial and astral anomalies identified within the user.
STR: 10
DEX: 10
INT: 10
MG: 10
SPT: 10
LUK: -
Skills
[Water Magic] - [Healing Water]
[Bubble Magic] - [Illusions] [Water-plant shield]
[Wand Mastery]
[Staff Mastery]
[Alchemy]
[Magic Craft]
[Enchant]
[Warding]”
“Your expression says it’s bad. How bad is it doc?”
Lark was stunned. Even Gushi, his delicate slime, could take on the old man. He gave the same explanation he told Wangshi about the stat-reading ability to Cornelius.
“The numbers are a lot lower than what I imagined for an Immortal. Can the curse be lifted?”
Cornelius’s miserable expression reminded him of Pisces’ predicament. “I’m not sure. It was the result of researching ways to reach immortality faster.”
Lark could imagine what must’ve happened. The combination of Joffrey’s astral and spatial abilities got thrown into flux and it resulted in Cornelius’s sometimes aged-up appearance versus his younger-looking self.
“You guys were friends, and yet Joffrey just left you like this?”
Cornelius leaned his head to the side, seemingly more burdened by the question and surprised Lark with another question. “If your friend did bad things for your sake, what would you think of them?”
“I’d stop them,” Lark answered immediately, thinking of Sky.
“So we’re of the same mind. It’s a simple story of good intentions gone wrong. For my sake, Joffrey joined the organization we know as the cultists to collect information about possible ways to fix this. And his guilt has been so strong though that it’s allowed him to commit terrible things.”
He didn’t seem to be a stranger to theft though.
“Where’s Joffrey, now?”
“After the Redlines incident, I’m not sure. But he’s likely regrouping with his comrades to attack some of our facilities soon.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
Cornelius rested his hand on the armrest and chuckled. His bleary eyes closed into a smile. Then he looked at Lark with a glimmer of amusement. “There are better, or worse-er things to worry about. Such as the questions you want to be answered. I can’t tell you about the Volarians yet. But I can offer you the secret to world-traveling. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“There must be something like a critical drawback if you’re not being so forward,” Lark scoffed, hiding his worry. Was he insinuating about the secret-keeper title? The titles were something he hadn’t shared with Cornelius yet.
“You have the right to be cautious, Lark, but I’m afraid we don’t have much time for that.” Cornelius stood up and dusted his robes. “It’s definitely something you want to know to find your friends, but the gatekeeper always asks for something in return.”
A chill went down Lark’s back and he heard Sphinx’s voice inside his head.
Are you still waiting for something to happen? Why are you still hesitating?
“Once you tell me, will I be obligated to join some type of secret order?”
“You’ll become part of a large, collective responsibility. That’s the price of knowledge,” Cornelius warned. Then laughed as he headed to the door. “But, no, there isn’t a secret order and you don’t have to join.”
But there is a working-behind-the-scenes group. Lark frowned, interlocking his fingers together. “All I want to know is the truth. The truth of how I can get my friends back, and the truth of whatever is going on here. Being in danger is not something new to me, so please tell me.”
As soon as the old man smiled, Lark’s watch pinged a text notification from an unknown number. Before he could read the message, the office door opened and a woman stood in the darkness.
“They’re here,” she said rather grimly to Cornelius.
“The granny…” from the bus, he recognized, “but why are you here?” He gawked at her uniform, which was the same as the clerk’s from downstairs.
To Lark, both her voice and look changed instantly. “Hero-boy,” she greeted him with pouted lips. “I was sad you didn’t recognize me, but now you do?”
He didn’t know when she did it, but an illusion spell must’ve been set instantly to change her appearance from a twenty-something year old woman to a senior and back. Which was real? The picture of her youth, or her fragile, turtle-like frame?
The clerk introduced herself briefly. Her name was Ellinor. “But you, hero-boy, can call me Elli,” she said, winking at him.
“Can’t be standing here making acquaintances though,” she continued, “You can feel the evil energy settling in the gallery, where the new transporters are waiting, Cornelius. We need to get there, now, before they move first.”
“Who exactly? Cultists? Is it Joffrey?’” Lark asked,
“It’s the Volarians,” she said, looking at him quite strangely as if she didn’t understand why he would ask her something so simple. Then she glared accusingly at Cornelius.
“What have you been talking to him about, if not the most important piece of information for tonight’s mission?”
“He hasn’t agreed yet,” Cornelius answered.
She frowned.
Their relationship didn’t look so good, Lark noted, but asked anyway, “Where do I fit into all this? Clearly, I meant to do something here.”
“Cornelius said you hold an Immortal artifact. We need that power to defend ourselves.”
“From the Volarians?”
“Yes!” Ellinor exclaimed, her impatience showing in her aged face. “We have to remove—
Remove?
“Ellinor!” Cornelius took a sharp breath. “You can’t tell him anymore if he doesn’t agree to it. I’ll go with you now.”
Then he turned to Lark. “If you follow us, I take that as a sign of your agreement. If you leave the premise for your own safety, I won’t blame you, but I will likely not live longer than tonight if you dare come back here.”
“I’m coming with you two!” he quickly declared, heading to the door with them. The illusions around them began warping.
Cornelius stabilized the transfer with his staff, but still, Lark felt his ears ‘popping’ as if the altitude had changed dramatically.
They returned to the gallery where he saw a scorching trail jetting down the sky in the windows, leaving a corkscrew pattern in its wake. Black smoke twisted all the way to the ground and small sparks floated away from the area of impact. People in black robes walked into the same street where buildings laid to waste. In their arms were arsenals of weaponry.
The sun shone somewhat to the left and behind him and brightly lit up the enormous panorama which, rising like an amphitheater, extended before him in the clear rarefied atmosphere.
Lark couldn’t take his eyes off the devastation before him and hadn’t checked his ‘ping,’ either, but if he had noticed it sooner, he couldn’t help but wonder if he chose wrongly.
“Trust no one.” - Unknown.
