Runes

(Small spoiler for those that have not reached the third nightmare and its conclusion.)

The cathedral looked as grand as ever. 

Entering through the main door, the scars of their previous battle still remained, with even more to count. With the black knight gone, many other nightmare creatures attempted to stake a claim on the territory. With the help of Bael, they made quick work of a set of Basilisks that took refuge in the dark corners of the cathedral.

Turning back to his apostle, Aldric ordered.

"Feel free to do whatever you want. This will be the last time we will set foot here for a very long time."

With that, he continued to walk inside the cathedral. Through the hallways lined with the rooms that priests and priestesses spent their time in, he was on the lookout for something out of the ordinary.

One of the walls in the hallway was raised, in some sort of secret passage. Aldric walked through it and followed in the dark. Walking for what seemed like minutes, twists and turns led him down beneath the cathedral. Right under the statue of the goddess.

Leading to a staircase, he descended down in a spiral. Deeper and deeper, he went.

Finally, a large black door entered his vision. It was made of the same material that made up his apostle. Lit by two ghostly torches, the massive door was wide open. 

Entering through the door, a narrow room came into view. Scanning the room, all he could see were shapes written on the ground beside a pile of dust. All situated within an ominous circle formed out of runes. 

Taking out a rudimentary pen and paper made by the artisans in the Bright Castle from his [Stone Coffer], he jotted down the lines of runes. While the basic translation of the nightmare spell could help him understand the themes behind the runes, that was not what he was after. 

He wanted to be able to use it. Just like whoever built these torches to burn for more than a millennia in a closed room. Just like whoever built the runes in the circle that sealed the follower of Weaver. That was his goal. 

It was an overzealous goal. Without someone to teach him, it would be as if you were trying to write a book in a language that you just learned. It was a daunting task. However, what else could Aldric do? Seeing an opportunity for growth, there was no way he could be afraid of failure. 

He could understand the meanings of the runes from his lessons back in the academy; however, he could not understand the method that brought them together and gave them power. The rules and all. It was something to study.

The ancient room had clear signs of recent entry. From the opened door to the footprints in the dust. And that was what Aldric was waiting for. 

With no chance of entering the chamber without the iron key, he had to wait for Sunny and his [Mark of Divinity] to find it within the Lord of the Dead. Without the attribute guiding him, it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack that was attempting to kill you. There was no chance that he would subject himself to that.

He did not know the runic protections that the room had against those that attempted to force entry. Getting stuck in a runic entrapment this deep underground with no one to help was not a good way to die.

Aldric had entertained the idea of pilfering Weaver's mask when he had learned of his flaw. Wearing that mask every time he was in the dream realm was a small price to pay. To avoid being corrupted by any strong nightmare creature that crossed his path. Some deeper thought made him ditch the idea. 

Unlike Sunny, his flaw was not that simple to have a reverse that was easily imagined. The inverse of honesty was lying. What was the inverse of corruption?

Like a djinn trying to grant wishes while looking for ways to maximise the suffering of their summoner, Aldric did not know what he would receive. 

Perhaps he will become a vessel for corruption and release it into the world, automatically corrupting himself and those around him. Perhaps he would descend down the path of profanity just like nightmare creatures instead of the path of ascension. He could even be susceptible to divinity or those higher on the path of ascension, like Saints and Masters. He had no clue. 

'The enemy that is known is better than the one that is unknown.'

His eyes went to the runes that were scribbled beside the pile of dust. The spell translated for him:

"Hail Weaver

Demon of Fate

Firstborn

of the -unknown-"

Revulsion and pain entered his mind. Fighting the feeling, he reaffirmed what he knew. 

"Forgotten God... That's their damn name, you stupid spell."

With that revelation, the pain passed through his body. Reaffirming to the spell that he knew exactly what it refused to translate, it was pointless now. This was reflected in his sight as the runes for 'unknown' shifted to the 'Forgotten God'.

Looking away from the runes, he completed one final look at the room. There was nothing else of value. This was not the lair of a daemon or the temple of a god. Part of him just wanted to explore the areas that he had read about. Completing all the known locations in the Forgotten Shore aside from the Ashen Barrow.

With that, he finished his task and returned back to the grand hall of the cathedral. 

It was not surprising to find Bael standing in front of the goddess' statue. Transfixed like a statue himself, he was basking in her visage one last time. 

"Bael. We have to go."

Looking at his master, Bael began to walk towards him. Giving the statue one final look, he left.

Aldric noticed a new addition on his apostle. A ruby necklace connected by silver chains that hanged around his neck. Observing the emotions from his apostle, he paid it no mind and continued walking. 

----------

Preparing for sleep, Aldric was in the Bright Castle. Taking up one of the rooms in the eastern tower. After taking over the castle, it was more strategic for everyone to live closely. Even Sunny and himself. 

With nothing to occupy his mind before morpheus took him to sleep, he went within his soul sea. Commanding the tesseract to summon in front of him, he could see that the mysterious relic was still making work of the corpse that Aldric had fed it. Remembering what it did to the [Mantle of the Underworld]—fixing it and making it operable when it should not have—he wondered what he would gain from the corpse of at the very least a high-ranking stone saint to perhaps one of the seven that Nether favoured. His intuition knew that he would be rewarded. After all, that was the point of Tesseract. To find relics and pieces that related to its creator. Bringing with it boons and rewards. 

With the final battle tomorrow, it would definitely not resolve itself beforehand. So Aldric pushed the thought away. 

As he enveloped himself in the soft silk bedding, a knock rang on his door. With contained annoyance, he approached the door shirtless with loose trousers on. 

Opening the door revealed a small figure that reached his upper chest. Having grown taller in the year that he stayed in the dream realm, the figure that used to reach his chin was now dwarfed by him.

The figure was like a porcelain doll. Adorned in white cloth like a Greek goddess, her golden blond hair shun brightly in the face of the moonlit hallway. Her eyes were opened just enough to see a set of ocean blue irises. However, her demeanour and aura did not match her dainty appearance. 

Not giving him a moment to speak, the blind girl spoke first.

"Aldric, we need to talk."

**********

Thank you for reading again.

Double upload, felt bored this Sunday. 

As for the spoiler warning, this will be the last time I will do it. It seems annoying to keep up and interrupts the flow of reading. Just assume that from now on, this story could contain stuff relating beyond the point in the story that I am writing. I will of course not write it explicitly and it will be interwoven in the story in a way that makes sense. 

Appreciate the words of support, Ka1serMax.

That's it for the yap. Till next time.