Re: The Haunting of the Rose - Chapter 5, Therefore I am Nothing
Cautiously Phelan takes the satchel from the kneeling figure and Phelan does his best to shoulder the satchel that's almost a third his size. Though he finds it is not as heavy as he thought it would be. Taking a look inside he finds a healing potion, and two books. The thicker and larger of the two books was of course Amare's Ritual Book and the other was his journal. There was also a smaller pouch containing paper-wrapped chalk, a small box of charcoal sticks, a fountain pen and a bottle of ink.
Taking out Amare's journal, Phelan opened the book to a fluttering of pages. The book was turning itself as he held it. Where exactly it was in the book Phelan wasn't exactly sure but it seemed like the middle or just past it.
Most of the two pages before him was covered in script reminiscent of Giant but far more intricate. Much like Giant the script alternated between up and down lines with the a peculiar flow line indicating the directions of reading. Oddly, Phelan realized the script was arranged in such a way as to be read in multiple directions and from what little he could decipher it seemed all of it would make different kinds of sense depending on which way you choose to read it. Even outside the indicated directions of the obvious flow-line.
A piece written in common caught Phelan's eye, and he suspected this was the segment Amare had intended him to read.
Phelan; I hope you never have to read these words. For this outcome was unlikely but not an impossibility. I have- scribbled in between and above the next word is (or you have) been forced to use the Instrument of Transformation on myself to arrest the opening of the Way. The illness I suffer from has been trying to wrest control of my vessel from me since the moment I arrived. I have outlined to you before the consequences of an uncontrolled opening of that kind of trans-dimensional aperture. It is my belief that whoever or whatever is responsible for this illness desires access to the Transcend for reasons I can only guess at.
In my suspended state I will only be dimly aware of my surroundings, a state akin to a deep, dreamless sleep. Safeguards are in place to insure that only myself and one other can remove the Instrument and restore me to my previous state. Though that will only happen if the conditions are met rid me of the infection I carry. To remove the Instrument at any other time risks disaster and worse.
Once Phelan had read the last passage in common, the pages turned back to an earlier part of the book. These pages showed more of the same Giant-esque writing but featured some curious drawings on the page. Sketches and portraits Phelan did not readily recognize. A sphere of many concentric shells, cut away to reveal the interiors. One in particular was encircled and a subscript in common had been added to it. Formless Sea, Precursor of the Flesh.
The section in common here read:
It will be a lot to take in so I will keep it simple for now. You must find your way onto the moon. I know that seems a nigh impossible task, but I have seen the signs all across this weyr. The dragons, and your people had some way to reach the moon from here. Hidden far beneath the surface of the moon is a place that was engineered by myself and others aeons ago. Therein lies a sea of gold which can heal me.
This is a lot to ask, I know and I will do everything in my power to make it up to you once I am restored.
Phelan had to take a moment to absorb what he had just read before he continued.
I will not leave you alone in this endeavor. Before I enter my arrested state, I will siphon off a part of my vessel and pour into it Volon's consciousness. He is the sole surviving Colossus of the seventeen who once watched over this world. I have been repairing his fragmented psyche since I've taken residence in what is technically his body. To continue those efforts to repair his mind and be of what assistance I can, given the state I will be in, I will place a fragment of my own consciousness into his. Volon is a strange creature to your ken. Think of him as a golem of sorts. He may be reluctant to speak but he will certainly understand you. Though he will probably act on his own volition. Unlike myself he is not immortal. Please look after him and be patient with him. He's been a statue for ages, trapped in his own body and watching the world pass around him. I fear he's not what you would call sane exactly. He will probably carry me if no one else volunteers.
For now I'll end this missive by pointing you in a useful direction and providing a warning. The umbreans here know something about the Formless Sea the text you and Willa translated from the umbrean warren suggests as much. Press them about it if you can. Finally, I will release a psychic scream in my final moments before I am put to sleep the intent of this scream is to alert my potential allies. The Giants, expect one of them to arrive with haste within a few days to seek me out.
With that, the book closed itself.