Talking Achive

Not a second later, the squeaking of a hinge of some kind resounded within the room, followed by the sound of the press of a button, before the squeaking resumed.

The ground shook briefly, and Lawrence briefly lost his sense of balance as the bottom of the door began to rise. That’s when he realized they were in a secret elevator.

He halted his rumination on his possible murder, not knowing what to expect. A minute passed, and the shape of a regular elevator door came to eye level. A soft ding rang as the doors slid open, revealing an empty, large, dimly lit room.

So much for a secret society.

Mottled, old tarps lay out on the carpet, with dust and cobwebs covering the room. Lawrence could see the dust particles flying around, which made him hesitant to breathe.

Mary stepped into the room without much issue, waving away some dust as they approached an old wooden door on the side of the room. Grasping the doorknob, she paused as she turned to look at Lawrence.

“Do you have your mask with you, by chance?”

Mask…?

“No, I’m afraid not.” He shook his head, trying to recall what she could be talking about.

“No worries. Wait a moment, then, " Mary instructed, opening and closing the door behind her.

About a minute later, she returned and held out a strange-looking visor. Its design resembled a crown, but it was black with dark purple lines scattered across it, lacking symmetry or cohesion.

Lawrence reluctantly took it and put it over his face, covering his eyes. Despite its appearance, he could see through it, most likely due to a spell cast on it. To his surprise, the face mask’s colors matched the black suit he was still wearing for the funeral.

“Ready?” The receptionist asked, turning her head to look at him as he adjusted the mask to fit more comfortably.

He nodded once as she pushed the door inward, revealing a massive open room with shelves housing hundreds of books, similar to the library above them. It was like a mirror of light and darkness.

A few people passing by silently nodded their heads in Lawrence’s direction, confusing him a bit. They all wore uniquely crafted masks vastly different from his. Some had strange, painted designs, while others were in the shape of specific animals, such as owls, boars, and crows.

As they approached the wooden guard rail, Lawrence looked down, widening his eyes in shock. He was astounded by the several similarly built floors that held many more shelves.

Who even had the money to pay for this?

“I left the item you requested from Aris in your office,” Mary revealed, gesturing with her hand toward a pair of closed doors at the other end of the floor.

“Thank you, M-”

The receptionist quickly put her index finger to her lips to shush him, winking once as she lowered her voice a bit.

“Remember, in here, I’m Erinna.”

“Got it.” He acknowledged, trying to prevent red from suffusing over his cheeks from almost revealing her name in the secret society.

They parted ways, and Lawrence headed for his supposed office. The sounds of wood creaking and the footsteps of dozens of people echoed throughout each floor.

As he approached the pair of finely crafted wooden doors, he could hear the soft, indistinct conversations of other members of this strange organization.

Grasping both knobs and opening the doors inward, a dark room, encompassed by shadows, greeted him. Using the ambient light from the outside, he located a lamp powered by a magic stone and activated the device.

The lamp bathed the room in a soft, low yellow light, illuminating it enough for Lawrence to see inside. Closing the door behind him, he swiveled his head to examine everything. On the right side was a wall covered with bookshelves, and on the other was a table with alchemical tools and materials.

There was a closet in the back left corner. When Lawrence opened it, he discovered several suits of varying colors on hangers. He closed the doors again as some dust flew up into his face.

Turning around and approaching the desk, the floorboards creaked with each step. There was a small parcel with light brown twine wrapped around it sitting on the desk. Lawrence looked around the desk’s surface to see if there was anything he could use to cut the twine, but he only found several pens, papers, and magic stones.

He sighed, removed his mask, set it on the desk, grasped the handle of his kukri, and unsheathed it. Aiming the tip of the blade and placing it under the twine, it cut through like butter as the twine snapped.

I swear I won’t reduce you to a simple box cutter.

Lamenting, Lawrence examined the sharp blade and the runes inscribed on it before returning it to its leather tomb once more.

After pulling the twine away, he carefully cut the top of the parcel to reveal its contents. Flipping it over, a strange-looking book fell into his palm.

The book’s cover design was peculiar. Lawrence caressed the silver cover, with its rigid edges and a red gem in the middle. A rose pattern spread out from the gem to all sides of the cover.

Wait, this is a grimoire…!

While he wasn’t familiar with this exact grimoire from his memories, grimoires had unique cover designs that distinguished them from other books.

He continued to examine it as the silver shone softly under the lamp’s light. His examination paused briefly as two shadows of some patrons moved across the door, their voices becoming more muffled as they got farther.

Attempting to open it, Lawrence noticed there was a lock binding both ends of the grimoire. Leaning closer to get a better look at it, the grimoire suddenly shook violently in his hands before he lost control of it, and it began floating above the desk. He was a bit panic-stricken because this wasn’t something he was expecting, but it was reminiscent of when Elpis’s Box came to life.

The lock undid itself, and the grimoire opened, flipping through its hundreds of pages at a rapid pace before stopping at a single page that only had a few words written in the middle.

“Hello there, Lawrence.”

“You know my name?” He gasped, taken aback that it was aware of who he was as the grimoire flipped to the next page.

“Yes, of course. I chose you, after all.” It replied cryptically, Lawrence’s eyes squinting a bit so he could correctly read the cursive of New Lavonian.

“What do you mean, chose me?” He repeated the words, trying to wrap his head around what it meant.

“You’re telling me you bought me for the fun of it?” The grimoire flipped to another page to ask. Lawrence could sense its sardonic tone.

“I’m afraid I have little recollection of anything since I nearly died only a few days ago.”

The strange floating book didn’t flip to another page as it remained idle for a few seconds. Lawrence looked around the room awkwardly before responding.

“In that case, I’ll introduce myself formally. I am the Scarlet Oracle, one of the Seven Grimoire Progenitors curated by the Great Sage, Ash Regnard.” The grimoire introduced itself ostentatiously.

“That’s quite a grand introduction,” Lawrence commented, impressed but unfamiliar with the names.

“I know no modesty.” The Scarlet Oracle boasted proudly.

This thing certainly has a personality, for a book…

“So, back to the topic, why did you choose me, and for what?” He asked, refocusing the conversation.

“Because you are most like my creator, personality-wise.” It responded, lowering itself for him to clutch the grimoire in his hands.

At that moment, Lawrence’s surroundings began to change, and the familiar feeling made him realize a memory fragment pulled him in. It had been some time since the last one, and he was starting to think he wouldn’t find any more.

~

Lawrence’s eyes adjusted to the change, noticing he was standing in front of a tall man in his early thirties with tied-back brown hair and black eyes. He had a weary look on his face, but he tried to mask it with a pitiful smile.

“Aris, you’re risking your life for the sake of this grimoire. Just get rid of it!” Lawrence protested.

“My friend, you don’t understand the power one of the Seven Grimoire Progenitors holds if it finds a suitable wielder. I’m quite disappointed it didn’t choose me.” Aris replied, despondent, but chuckled bittersweetly.

“You will die if you hold onto it for any longer.” Lawrence continued to plead, but he knew his warnings were falling on deaf ears.

“I know, which is why I’m handing it to you, dear friend. You’ve been with me since my wife and child passed away. You’re the only one I can trust to safeguard it. With the Archive and its influence, I know you’ll be able to grant this request.”

The corner of Lawrence’s mouth quivered, instantly balling up his fists in frustration as he tried not to shed a tear.

“Please, do me this one last favor.”

Lawrence could feel his breathing becoming heavy, and his heartbeat increased with each passing second. A heavy weight fell on him as the pressure in the room increased.

“Why don’t you hand it to me now?” He managed to say that after a few moments of collecting himself.

“I have to make them believe it burned up when I torch this place.”

“Just fake your death, run away, and keep that damn thing!” Lawrence exclaimed, not meaning to shout, but he was venting my frustration with his friend’s decision.

“I’ve run away long enough, but no longer. I’ve reached the end of the road, Lawrence,” Aris said with a woeful smile on his face, recounting peaceful memories as the mood in the room turned even heavier.

“If you want to live, then keep running! Isn’t that what Sera would want?!”

Lawrence’s friend laughed softly, which caught him off guard. He looked up to see that Aris had a particular expression that confirmed Lawrence’s worst fear. No matter what he said, his friend wouldn't falter, and there was nothing he could do to stop him.

“There’s nothing left for me in this world. I’ve been fighting this secret war for so long. For what reason? To lose more? I can’t bear it any longer. As cruel as it is, I’m nominating you to take up the mantle.”

“No, don’t make me bear this weight alone.” Lawrence pleaded even more desperately.

This was the first time I’d seen Lawrence this emotional. In my few memories, he was usually cold and expressionless.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve given up this pointless fight. I’ve lost so much more than it would be worth if I were to win. Hopefully, you won’t end up like me.” Aris sighed deeply, calming his nerves.

Lawrence tried to object, but Aris stopped him by shaking his head. It felt like something got caught in the boy’s throat as he stood there, only a few feet away from a friend he couldn’t help.

“You should leave before their spies know you’re colluding with me. I’ll be sure to have my familiar pass on the Scarlet Oracle to you before I die.”

Lawrence’s heart ached so much it felt like it was going to wither away. There was nothing he could do. Feeling so helpless was the worst feeling.

After a few moments, he admitted defeat, turned his back towards his friend, and walked towards the door, struggling greatly to close it behind him.