The Primordial Record
chapter-71

Walking behind the captain, Rowan tried to ignore the screaming that he now heard constantly from the strings inside his body. He briefly wondered how it was possible that he could have been deaf to the commotion from these strings all these while.

Occasionally, around him, a small mouth filled with needle sharp teeth would appear and seemed to take a bite out of the air, and promptly disappear.

Rowan discovered the snakes could shrink until they were as small as a single thread, knowing this, he let them out, so they could hunt the flying eyes inside the mansion.

The captain must have sensed something, for he looked back and around him.

"Is everything all right, Captain Titus, you appear nervous."

"Nothing… My lord, it must be the strain of the last few days on my mind."

"I understand, it has not been an easy period for us all, but I promise you, that together we will free ourselves of this nightmare."

They proceeded towards the back of the manor, and the captain opened the door in front, where a group of people gathered, and they appeared distraught, they were mostly men, and a few women, who held swords and shields, with a few crossbows held by four of the women.

The rest of the women and children were kept in the expansive cellar underneath the manor, where the staff and the remaining survivors were. Certain hushed whispers went on between the people.

The moment Rowan entered the room, everyone went silent, as they all felt a certain pressure inside their chest. Rowan had never learned any skill to hide his Aura, and his presence was becoming difficult for mortals to bear, for it was beginning to carry a formless weight.

Rowan felt it was doubtful if any disguise skill would ever do him good, for he had two Omnipotent bloodlines, and he was becoming strong, he was a young chick that had now begun learning to fly, and as an Empyrean, he was destined to walk across stars, the earth could not contain his steps for long.

Although unaware of it, that knowledge touched the heart of every person in this room, and Rowan’s eyes widened slightly for he could see the changes in everybody in the room, he saw the quivering in their bodies, the way their pupils dilated, their hearts beating out of rhythm, and the increasing frequency of their breathing.

He had felt that way once before in his previous life, it was when he climbed to the top of a mountain, and he had seen all the lands stretched far into the horizon. He had felt, so small.

Although he had felt the same feeling countless times over since he came to this world, he did not expect that feeling to be directed towards him, and for an instant, he felt a bit of shame.

There might be some bad eggs, among some of them, but for most of them, this was not how he wanted them to view him, as if he was a sort of god, or a messiah, he was aware of the reverence given to Nobles in this world, and he wanted none of it, for he did not feel that he deserved any of it.

The only reason he was alive, right now, was the result of the sacrifices of their kin. He looked around and through the souls that gave him their light, he saw their loved ones reflected through it.

Rowan paused, and he began calling them by name, "Bjorvir, Baloll, Maramyr, Genmir, Vigoll, Steikmar, Varaval, Raunir, Hronarr, Hrokul, Birrin, Dalrin, Dormilla, Hilly, Dordis, Declara, Norie, Brisha, Darny, Kriya, Srerma… You have done well."

Names are important, as one of the few things people consider as something truly of their own, it gives them a sense of identity beyond what most material possessions can ever give. In this world, to some people, their names are the most precious of possessions.

Rowan saw them perk up, the familiarity of their names being mentioned by him, broke a barrier that would have built between them if he had let it continue.

"Whatever went wrong, I will take it from here." Rowan had seen their eyes were fixed on a particular door before he entered.

"My lord… Is that you?" Declara, the stern owner of the Flying Hog, the only pub in town.

Rowan smiled and nodded.

"Well, you’ve certainly been eating a little too much, haven’t you."

He had nearly forgotten her shrewd mouth, "I miss you too, Declara. Stand back, all of you."

"Of course, my lord." She said, "It’s the priest… Something’s wrong with him, it began a few minutes ago, he suddenly started screaming, and anyone who got close to him, lost their heads. It’s just… Popped open." Her eyes were filled with the dawning horror of remembrance.

Rowan had already shot a burst of his sight through the doors and saw a shivering figure on the floor, around him were dozens of invisible flying eyeballs.

"I will take care of it." He walked towards the door and brought his hand to the handle, as the screams from the Strings seemed to intensify.

*****************************

"That’s an interesting story. I have never heard of that tribe." The hooded figure said.

"I would be surprised if you did." Said the Third prince, "One of the many casualties of the great push into the Northern continent. They were along the path I took, and I did not know it then—The brilliance of their work, else I would have spared some of them. These are the last batch of spices and herbs I collected from their farms."

"As fascinating as all these sounds, you still missed my point. You do not need to eat. All these…" The hooded figure gestured to the meat and wine, "... They are pointless, and in the long run are meaningless."

"You know there is a reason why no one likes you." The Third prince frowned, "There would be many things in this life you would be blind to, my friend because you refuse to see life as it should be seen. Your experience is behind a glass, you have shielded yourself from the very thing you sought to understand."

"Hmm… Fascinating. So, you think the way I should understand life, is to grovel in the dirt with the maggots, and eat sh*t with the dogs?"

"No… Yes! That is precisely my point. Life is to be experienced, not… Watched. I have no doubt that you know of millions of profound knowledge and events, but I would bet you, you have never tried to partake in any of them."

"And here I thought you were an enlightened being."

"Hey, don’t knock it, until you try it. Tell me, when was the last time you went to the beach, and got your feet wet? When was the last time you left the shadows of your robes and saw light in all its glory?"

He must have hit a nerve, for the hooded figure growled, "That is not relevant, I am stronger than you because I focus on my goals, without… Distractions."

"Ouch, low blow. Here I thought Augustus was the petty one." The Third prince paused for a while, as he cut more sizable chunks of meat and stuffed it inside his mouth, "I tried regrowing them you know—The spices, but the taste was never the same. I guess you can’t replace centuries of knowledge and practice. I found no tribes with this tradition, and I have tried… But it makes a proper send off, don’t you think?"

The Third prince looked up at the skies, where a red line was tearing through the horizons, heading for them.

"Eating the last of such delectable flavor, before killing a child of Tiberius."