[ Luca, must I explain this every time? I cannot read your mind. ]
[ Thereby, I do not know what it is that you are trying to remember. ]
Tch.
> I countered.
[ Yes, because you specifically asked about it. I knew what information you were looking for. ]
[ Think of me as a library. For me to provide you with information, you have to first ask for the book you're searching for. ]
[ Asking me what books you have forgotten that you have read is pointless. ]
I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the growing headache. The carriage jolted along rain-soaked roads, battling the storm's relentless assault with urgent determination.
My issue was that I didn't know what I didn't know. And how could I?
Frowning, I opened the curtain slightly and gazed out the window at the hazy view. Water poured down the glass, distorting my view of the outside surroundings into a blur of blacks, whites, and greys. The storm had considerably worsened since I first left the Frey Manor.
No. There was one memory I knew I had lost.
[ Very well. That I can do. ]
My headache worsened as the blue notification screens appeared, reciting the conversation, but with them, the memory from several days ago came flooding back in.
"How are you feeling?" Micah asked, walking over.
I shrugged.
The answer was hardly "fine." But the cup of mulungu tea that Remlend brought me was easing some of the tension I felt. Besides, while Fin and Leona being captured was less than ideal, I was not entirely without a plan on how to bring them back.
I currently sat inside Jarvis' greenhouse, surrounded by colorful foliage. A change in scenery was good for my state of mind, and something about the pink fluffy bushes and orange trees that Jarvis had grown in this part of the greenhouse hit the right mental note.
"It always amazes me what Jarvis is capable of," Micah remarked, joining me in admiring the lush surroundings.
"Just don't eat his strawberries," I muttered in response.
Micah chuckled. "I most certainly won't."
He sat beside me at the small mosaic table. An image of rolling green hills was imprinted on its surface, reminiscent of the Town of Ascot.
"I came to talk to you regarding Charles and what I learned," he said.
"Right." I nodded.
Another knot formed in the pit of my gut. But the mulungu tea eased whatever more prominent feelings I had on the matter.
"Whatever you did, it got Charles talking," Micah said.
His green eyes shifted toward me. I felt his questioning gaze; however, whatever it was regarding, he didn't outright ask.
I picked up my cup and took another sip. The warmth of the tea filled my mouth. I didn't know how much Seymour had relayed to Micah. I requested he spare the details, but he had no obligation to do so. However, I didn't want to explain my actions, and luckily, Micah didn't probe further.
"How long has he been working for that cult?" I inquired, steering the conversation toward the heart of the matter.
"Two years," Micah stated. "The attacks from their cult on our family began half a year ago, but Charles had been radicalized by the Guardians of Luminal about two years ago."
I frowned at this revelation.
"Why have they begun targeting us now?" I asked.
"The Guardians of Luminal have been around for a decade or so," Micah began to explain. "They see themselves as protectors of our realm, prophesizing an impending apocalypse since their early days. Their belief revolves around an evil being leading our realm to obliteration, and they've been on a mission to uncover and destroy this entity."
Micah's voice carried a note of sarcasm, hinting at the absurdity of their convictions.
"Their members have gone on various 'crusades,' as they call them, purging evil wherever they find it. Overall, their actions, while bewildering, have never posed any significant issues until now."
"But now they believe their prophecy to be somehow linked to our family?" I asked.
Before I worked Charles, Seymour had recounted to me several instances that I was not previously aware of, where members of the cult attacked our family's carriages. Everyone had apparently experienced these attacks except for me.
"Yes," Micah affirmed. "According to Charles, their prophet has divulged new information about this 'evil being,' asserting that the malevolence resides within our household."
I scoffed.
Adovoria was crawling with malevolence, as was much of the continent. The Spiders Syndicate reigned free in my original life, and the Kobar Empire massacred millions in their expansion. And yet, this cult's focus was on my family? My family didn't even survive to live through the worst of what occurred on our continent in the future that I lived through.
Micah mirrored my sentiment. "Their structure is a mystery, and we have no knowledge of their prophet or leaders. But now, thanks to the information that Charles provided, we at least understand how they recruit new members."
"How?" I asked.
"Assuming Charles' experience aligns with other cult members, they initially recruit individuals with a simple request for assistance, whether it's protecting someone or performing a benevolent deed."
"They hire their members for these missions?" I asked.
"No," Micah clarified, shaking his head. "It's voluntary. Free. They make the request without the promise of any reward. Nor do they identify themselves as being part of the Guardians of Luminal. Those who fulfill the request and complete it are then recruited, tasked with providing philanthropic assistance in subsequent cases."
"They're a charity, then?" I raised an eyebrow.
What an odd organization.
"Yes, or it would seem at first," Micah said. "Once its members have accomplished enough missions, they move up in ranks until they are finally brought into the fold that they are actually part of the Guardians of Luminal and are allowed to hear the voice of their prophet—or see it rather."
I frowned. "What do you mean, see it?"
"Their prophet remains unseen, at the very least at Charles' level," Micah explained. "Their prophet instead communicates through messages that appear in front of its members. These messages are visible only to them, appearing within floating purple boxes in the air."
I narrowed my eyes toward my brother. He continued to explain the method of communication, theorizing the possible techniques used, but he didn't need to. I had my own theory already, which I was pretty confident in.
>
[ I do not possess knowledge of this matter as no other Player has come across Guardians of Luminal. ]
[ Nor have the Players I interacted with experienced anything similar outside of a Game and Game Store. ]
Tch.
Until recently, I didn't know about this cult either. However, their method of communication was concerning. It was too familiar.
I asked.
[ No. There can only be a single System in existence when a Game is taking place. ]
>
I folded my arms and sat back.
[ That is not possible. When a Game ends, so does the System's existence. ]
Ah. I had never thought much about what would happen to this System upon the Game's completion. I assumed it would go away rather than continue following me around like some ghost, but to disappear entirely felt a little strange. Sad, really.
[ For a singular Game, there is always but one System. This is an ironclad rule regardless of the Summoning ritual type. ]
>
[ I do not possess information on it. However, whatever this is, at the very least, it's not a System in the same capacity that I exist. It is out of the Game field that I control. ]
Damn it. That makes it even more concerning.
"Luca?" Micah brought me back to the conversation.
"You were saying?" I asked, unfolding my arms and pouring myself a new cup of tea, more so for something to drink than its mellowing effects. "What do we do about this cult?"
"As Charles could only offer information about the earlier members of the cult, we will go after them for now," Micah said, standing up from the table. "Hopefully, we'll obtain a member that had actual contact with the organization's prophet to identify them."
I nodded.
Perhaps my favorite broker could offer some insight there.
"Damn it." The carriage rounded a corner, forcing me to grab hold of the walls to avoid unnecessary motion. Whoever today's driver was, was more interested in speed than safety. He was lucky my stomach could hold on to its food just fine despite my weak body. As helpful as vomiting was in the previous round, I didn't care to replicate the experience.
Unfortunately, given the present circumstance, Freida Stran had not divulged much information on this cult beyond some basic information related to Harley Whitmore. At the very least, I now at least knew that woman was part of this annoying cult.
[ Intelligence: +2 ]
[ Intelligence: 70 ]
[ Congratulations! You have hit '70' in the Intelligence stat. ]
[ Error. Still processing access changes. Skill will be updated upon completion. ]
The System completed its recollection of my discussion with Micah, and with the memory back in place, to no surprise, my Intelligence had come up.
The trouble was, just what else had I forgotten and didn't even know I had lost?
Moreover, with the strange affliction that lowered my Intelligence when the unknown stat hit a certain low, I was like a cup with a cracked bottom leaking out its tea. Worse, I didn't even know where the leak was to plug it up. Nor what to plug it with.
The carriage rolled to a gentle halt, unlike the fast and furious pace it had driven until now, and Leona fluttered back into the secrecy of my inner pocket. The relentless downpour persisted outside, but I didn't need to look out the window to know we had arrived home; there was a particular sound and vibration to the road leading into the Frey Manor.
"Welcome back, young master Luca." The door swung open, revealing Remlend, steadfast amidst the torrid of rain, clutching a large umbrella.
"Would you care for a hot bath?" he offered.
I sighed.
Normally, I would have welcomed nothing more. But this cracked cup needed to fill itself up and sooner rather than later.
"No, that's quite alright. Could you please arrange for Fin to join me in my room?" I requested, walking toward the manor.
"Most certainly," Remlend replied, following along, umbrella in hand.
Until I could figure out the unknown stat and how to address it, my main goal was to do as Micah suggested and get smarter. The System's allusion to itself being like a library reminded me that I knew of one place that seemed to possess more and rarer books than even my grandmother's private library back in the Town of Ascot. Chase Daylan even suggested that this was where he learned dark magic and thus became the warlock that he was.
It was time I paid Lisa a proper visit.
AlekAundra
Thanks for reading, and happy to have you!
As usual, you can read 4 chapters ahead on Patreon.
[ Luca, must I explain this every time? I cannot read your mind. ]
[ Thereby, I do not know what it is that you are trying to remember. ]
Tch.
> I countered.
[ Yes, because you specifically asked about it. I knew what information you were looking for. ]
[ Think of me as a library. For me to provide you with information, you have to first ask for the book you're searching for. ]
[ Asking me what books you have forgotten that you have read is pointless. ]
I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the growing headache. The carriage jolted along rain-soaked roads, battling the storm's relentless assault with urgent determination.
My issue was that I didn't know what I didn't know. And how could I?
Frowning, I opened the curtain slightly and gazed out the window at the hazy view. Water poured down the glass, distorting my view of the outside surroundings into a blur of blacks, whites, and greys. The storm had considerably worsened since I first left the Frey Manor.
No. There was one memory I knew I had lost.
[ Very well. That I can do. ]
My headache worsened as the blue notification screens appeared, reciting the conversation, but with them, the memory from several days ago came flooding back in.
"How are you feeling?" Micah asked, walking over.
I shrugged.
The answer was hardly "fine." But the cup of mulungu tea that Remlend brought me was easing some of the tension I felt. Besides, while Fin and Leona being captured was less than ideal, I was not entirely without a plan on how to bring them back.
I currently sat inside Jarvis' greenhouse, surrounded by colorful foliage. A change in scenery was good for my state of mind, and something about the pink fluffy bushes and orange trees that Jarvis had grown in this part of the greenhouse hit the right mental note.
"It always amazes me what Jarvis is capable of," Micah remarked, joining me in admiring the lush surroundings.
"Just don't eat his strawberries," I muttered in response.
Micah chuckled. "I most certainly won't."
He sat beside me at the small mosaic table. An image of rolling green hills was imprinted on its surface, reminiscent of the Town of Ascot.
"I came to talk to you regarding Charles and what I learned," he said.
"Right." I nodded.
Another knot formed in the pit of my gut. But the mulungu tea eased whatever more prominent feelings I had on the matter.
"Whatever you did, it got Charles talking," Micah said.
His green eyes shifted toward me. I felt his questioning gaze; however, whatever it was regarding, he didn't outright ask.
I picked up my cup and took another sip. The warmth of the tea filled my mouth. I didn't know how much Seymour had relayed to Micah. I requested he spare the details, but he had no obligation to do so. However, I didn't want to explain my actions, and luckily, Micah didn't probe further.
"How long has he been working for that cult?" I inquired, steering the conversation toward the heart of the matter.
"Two years," Micah stated. "The attacks from their cult on our family began half a year ago, but Charles had been radicalized by the Guardians of Luminal about two years ago."
I frowned at this revelation.
"Why have they begun targeting us now?" I asked.
"The Guardians of Luminal have been around for a decade or so," Micah began to explain. "They see themselves as protectors of our realm, prophesizing an impending apocalypse since their early days. Their belief revolves around an evil being leading our realm to obliteration, and they've been on a mission to uncover and destroy this entity."
Micah's voice carried a note of sarcasm, hinting at the absurdity of their convictions.
"Their members have gone on various 'crusades,' as they call them, purging evil wherever they find it. Overall, their actions, while bewildering, have never posed any significant issues until now."
"But now they believe their prophecy to be somehow linked to our family?" I asked.
Before I worked Charles, Seymour had recounted to me several instances that I was not previously aware of, where members of the cult attacked our family's carriages. Everyone had apparently experienced these attacks except for me.
"Yes," Micah affirmed. "According to Charles, their prophet has divulged new information about this 'evil being,' asserting that the malevolence resides within our household."
I scoffed.
Adovoria was crawling with malevolence, as was much of the continent. The Spiders Syndicate reigned free in my original life, and the Kobar Empire massacred millions in their expansion. And yet, this cult's focus was on my family? My family didn't even survive to live through the worst of what occurred on our continent in the future that I lived through.
Micah mirrored my sentiment. "Their structure is a mystery, and we have no knowledge of their prophet or leaders. But now, thanks to the information that Charles provided, we at least understand how they recruit new members."
"How?" I asked.
"Assuming Charles' experience aligns with other cult members, they initially recruit individuals with a simple request for assistance, whether it's protecting someone or performing a benevolent deed."
"They hire their members for these missions?" I asked.
"No," Micah clarified, shaking his head. "It's voluntary. Free. They make the request without the promise of any reward. Nor do they identify themselves as being part of the Guardians of Luminal. Those who fulfill the request and complete it are then recruited, tasked with providing philanthropic assistance in subsequent cases."
"They're a charity, then?" I raised an eyebrow.
What an odd organization.
"Yes, or it would seem at first," Micah said. "Once its members have accomplished enough missions, they move up in ranks until they are finally brought into the fold that they are actually part of the Guardians of Luminal and are allowed to hear the voice of their prophet—or see it rather."
I frowned. "What do you mean, see it?"
"Their prophet remains unseen, at the very least at Charles' level," Micah explained. "Their prophet instead communicates through messages that appear in front of its members. These messages are visible only to them, appearing within floating purple boxes in the air."
I narrowed my eyes toward my brother. He continued to explain the method of communication, theorizing the possible techniques used, but he didn't need to. I had my own theory already, which I was pretty confident in.
>
[ I do not possess knowledge of this matter as no other Player has come across Guardians of Luminal. ]
[ Nor have the Players I interacted with experienced anything similar outside of a Game and Game Store. ]
Tch.
Until recently, I didn't know about this cult either. However, their method of communication was concerning. It was too familiar.
I asked.
[ No. There can only be a single System in existence when a Game is taking place. ]
>
I folded my arms and sat back.
[ That is not possible. When a Game ends, so does the System's existence. ]
Ah. I had never thought much about what would happen to this System upon the Game's completion. I assumed it would go away rather than continue following me around like some ghost, but to disappear entirely felt a little strange. Sad, really.
[ For a singular Game, there is always but one System. This is an ironclad rule regardless of the Summoning ritual type. ]
>
[ I do not possess information on it. However, whatever this is, at the very least, it's not a System in the same capacity that I exist. It is out of the Game field that I control. ]
Damn it. That makes it even more concerning.
"Luca?" Micah brought me back to the conversation.
"You were saying?" I asked, unfolding my arms and pouring myself a new cup of tea, more so for something to drink than its mellowing effects. "What do we do about this cult?"
"As Charles could only offer information about the earlier members of the cult, we will go after them for now," Micah said, standing up from the table. "Hopefully, we'll obtain a member that had actual contact with the organization's prophet to identify them."
I nodded.
Perhaps my favorite broker could offer some insight there.
"Damn it." The carriage rounded a corner, forcing me to grab hold of the walls to avoid unnecessary motion. Whoever today's driver was, was more interested in speed than safety. He was lucky my stomach could hold on to its food just fine despite my weak body. As helpful as vomiting was in the previous round, I didn't care to replicate the experience.
Unfortunately, given the present circumstance, Freida Stran had not divulged much information on this cult beyond some basic information related to Harley Whitmore. At the very least, I now at least knew that woman was part of this annoying cult.
[ Intelligence: +2 ]
[ Intelligence: 70 ]
[ Congratulations! You have hit '70' in the Intelligence stat. ]
[ Error. Still processing access changes. Skill will be updated upon completion. ]
The System completed its recollection of my discussion with Micah, and with the memory back in place, to no surprise, my Intelligence had come up.
The trouble was, just what else had I forgotten and didn't even know I had lost?
Moreover, with the strange affliction that lowered my Intelligence when the unknown stat hit a certain low, I was like a cup with a cracked bottom leaking out its tea. Worse, I didn't even know where the leak was to plug it up. Nor what to plug it with.
The carriage rolled to a gentle halt, unlike the fast and furious pace it had driven until now, and Leona fluttered back into the secrecy of my inner pocket. The relentless downpour persisted outside, but I didn't need to look out the window to know we had arrived home; there was a particular sound and vibration to the road leading into the Frey Manor.
"Welcome back, young master Luca." The door swung open, revealing Remlend, steadfast amidst the torrid of rain, clutching a large umbrella.
"Would you care for a hot bath?" he offered.
I sighed.
Normally, I would have welcomed nothing more. But this cracked cup needed to fill itself up and sooner rather than later.
"No, that's quite alright. Could you please arrange for Fin to join me in my room?" I requested, walking toward the manor.
"Most certainly," Remlend replied, following along, umbrella in hand.
Until I could figure out the unknown stat and how to address it, my main goal was to do as Micah suggested and get smarter. The System's allusion to itself being like a library reminded me that I knew of one place that seemed to possess more and rarer books than even my grandmother's private library back in the Town of Ascot. Chase Daylan even suggested that this was where he learned dark magic and thus became the warlock that he was.
It was time I paid Lisa a proper visit.
AlekAundra
Thanks for reading, and happy to have you!
As usual, you can read 4 chapters ahead on Patreon.
