Arcána Mundí - The royal treasure

Thieves! We have thieves!

Months later? Years later? Decades later? No, it was centuries later that our story would continue. People were still telling each other about the great and legendary treasure of the old king and really everyone would give anything to be allowed to see this treasure once, to be able to touch it, to feel it in their hands. They all had no clue what the treasure was. Everyone heard only the stories that had been passed down from the past, and no one really knew whether these stories were to be believed. The treasure had never been sighted by the inhabitants, it had been banished to an underworld and guarded by countless eerie creatures, dragons! One deadlier and more dangerous than the other. And none of all ArcánaMundí even knew where the entrance to this underworld should be. No clue had ever been discovered. No one knew where to start looking for it. But honestly, even if someone knew, they were all very skeptical about whether it was worth the risk of facing the creatures. Because there was a lot of talk. There was a lot in the books about the creatures that Grucius was supposed to have created at that time. And what was written in the books made one's hair stand on end, one's blood freeze in one's veins, one felt goose bumps all over one's body. If the stories were true, then even if you found the entrance, you would still have countless obstacles, and then possibly die shortly before the end.Due to the fact that no one had ever managed to find the entrance, at least no one knew of anyone who had, the villagers were not living well, but neither was the royal family. They were not doing very well either. Each individual had to fight for himself and no one was allowed to hope for anything from the king, since the royal family also had little and had to live through hard times. It was hardly praised. Many beings and people had no respect for her anymore. The king had hardly anything to say. The life of the noble family was not really different from that of the farmers and craftsmen. Day in and day out they had to work to provide bread and water. In short, everyone from the village of Murík was miserable, hoping for a miracle, waiting for the Savior, as it was written in the books. The Savior from poverty. The man who, according to Grucius, should be worthy, who should manage to get into the underworld to liberate the treasure and defeat poverty. Because, unfortunately, nothing could be expected from other noble families and villages. They all had no pity for the village of Murík, no pity for the royal family. You also knew the lore and knew the reason for the poverty. You thought it was fair and just that the treasure was no longer in this world. But when was the miracle going to happen? Now so many years had passed, an endless time and still no sign of a savior.

It was just the middle of August, the sun was shining, the air was clear and the peasants were working in the fields when seventeen-year-old Prince Jéremy-Jaysón Prince, son of King Luíz-Sacháris Prince and brother of the future ruler Jáissy-Jáck Prince was strolling through the magnificent and beautiful castle, his home. He was bored. Everyone was busy. His father was in the fields helping the farmers. His brother with the servants, learning what it means to be king of a country. His mother in the kitchen preparing food and his little sister Méry-Sophíne in her room with two others her age. So he made his way down into the underground walls of the palace. He wanted to browse a little in the old paraphernalia. Here one could travel back in time, so to speak. The rooms below were hundreds of years old and not quite as intact as the rest of the palace. Prince Jéremy entered a room at the end of a tunnel and found a large brown cabinet, completely rotten and dusty standing in the left corner. With care, he pulled a drawer out of the cabinet and curiously looked at the contents of the drawer. Old feathers from a long dead bird and a small gold watch, though worthless. He opened more drawers. Old knives and rings, glasses and books were still in the cabinet. Jéremy turned around, left the room, and strode down even further. Still further down, he entered a dark chamber with many long dark boxes. The young adult slowly and carefully approached one that was decorated from top to bottom with all kinds of little sparkling stones, precious stones. Probably the only precious items in the castle. Few remnants of the great treasure. Used to make the box look as beautiful as possible. But for what, the prince wondered. Why were these stones not used to make the lives of the villagers easier. Why were these treasures under the castle, where no one could see them? Why were they rotting here on the box instead of being up on earth where they could be used to escape poverty a little? Slowly he stepped closer to the box. He wanted to know what it was all about, because he didn't know. He had no idea. He opened the cabinet and looked at the contents. It made his breath catch in his throat. Jéremy could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had just discovered the final resting place of his ancestor, the great and most powerful ruler Grucius Prince, and now he looked down into the bald face of the dead man. The last remains. Up to this point, he had known him only from old books and paintings. Now he lay there before him. How long had it been, the far, far away relative wondered. A sad mood hung in the air and tears almost came to the seventeen-year-old's eyes. It was so surreal for him. What all had this man experienced? What wonderful times with the treasure had this man had? What was life like back then? Jéremy wanted to know more about his ancestor. He wanted to find out what it was like back then. Breathlessly, he stared into the dead man's dark eyes, which were staring off into space somewhere. It smelled a little of corruption, but the boy did not mind. Hesitantly, the prince wanted to close the coffin again, but then his eyes fell on a small black something. It was almost invisible. If one did not look closely, one could very easily look over it. He put out his hand, took the black something and looked more closely at his find. The object was extremely dusty and old, but you could see exactly what it was - a book. Ancient and apparently hardly looked at by anyone. Carefully, the teenager wiped away the dust with a handshake. The title was difficult to read. First, the writing was already a little weaker due to its age, and second, this was probably an even more ancient language that the boy did not know. Nocturíus ár Maestro Grucíus read Jéremy. Completely confused, the boy turned the page, having no idea what was written there. Frowning, he continued to read what was written on the next page. Again, it must have been the old enigmatic language, for he understood absolutely nothing. Xyrem el portchor fúevo ív detroxy wor narechá tscheffe tredhar locom empadche mokortz wí fopuí derá. Dejó en la wela de upsidé on fig la bestialos on také la treásure. On la fartan el relajo Ébere tarcó. Jéremy had no clue what this meant. He kept turning the pages, wanting to know if there was more written down. He found a few more lines, but otherwise the book was empty. Extremely many blank pages. At the end he found a short note. Liá wurx y cor ekpa teje andro plesob. Thoughtfully, he searched through the entire book again to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Was that really all? And what did these words mean anyway? Questions upon questions. He wanted to answer. He wanted to know what book this was and what the content said in today's language. So he pondered. Is there someone who could help him? And already after a short time someone came to his mind. He wanted to ask one of the servants, Scrupius. Jéremy had the most contact with him. Maybe he knew how to translate the language. So the seventeen-year-old went up to his room and had Scrupius called to him. After a short wait, the boy was by now very nervous and fidgety, a splendid fellow with broad shoulders and a walrus beard appeared. He was bald, his eyes narrowed to slits and his ears close to his head. "Can you read this?" the well-built man was asked by Jéremy as soon as he entered the room. Full of hope, the boy stared at the servant. It would be too good to be true if he knew right away what was written in the book. But unfortunately he was disappointed. Scrupius looked at the pages of the book and had to frown. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke, "No, I'm sorry. But I am still too young and do not know this language. I have heard of it, often from lore and legends, but I am not able to translate it. But you can try Jajób. Maybe he can do it. He is the oldest servant here in the castle. Perhaps he can still understand this language and tell you what these lines mean." Shrugging his shoulders, he left the room. Jajób, that's a good idea. I could have thought of that right away, Jéremy thought. No one was as old as Jajób, and no one had been a servant for the royal family as long as Jajób. He often had a plan, knew something where others just stood there shrugging their shoulders and knew nothing. He would ask him now. Hopefully this one could help him. Jéremy immediately sent for the old servant. It was not long before a man entered, his beard long and shining white. His eyes were full of love and affection. On his somewhat crooked nose he had an old pair of glasses and his fingers were long and thin. "What is it my lord, what can I do for you? You sent for me, what for?" "I have found a book. But unfortunately I cannot understand its contents. It was written in a still ancient language and I would like to know what it means. Is it to you that you understand this language? Can you tell me what these lines are about?" "Well Jéremy, show me this book once," croaked the old man. The king's son handed his find to the man carefully and a little anxiously. The latter accepted it somewhat squeamishly and began to study the text. He began to read and understand. "Diary of the great King Grucius" was the first line. Jéremy urged. Full of curiosity and thirst for knowledge. It was starting to get exciting. So this was the diary of the old king. And he, of all people, had discovered it. Jajób continued: "Find the five rings and put them on the right hand of my image. Dive into the underworld and fight the beasts. If you succeed in defeating all of them, you will be worthy to take the treasure and rule over ArcánaMundí. Only a true heir will be able to do this. The rings are distributed all over ArcánaMundí. You will find a clue by each ring. Do not lose me, for you will still need me! The first ring is at the place where beginning and end meet!" After finishing the last sentence, the servant looked at the prince and cleared his throat. "Where did you get this book, my lord?" "I found it in the burial chamber of the old king himself" "This is an old important legacy. I must take this book to the king! I am sorry." Jéremy tried to answer him, to talk him out of it. But to no avail. The old man left the room with the book, leaving the king's son perplexed and disappointed. The same day he tried to convince his father to give him the book, but he only said that he was still too young and that he had no business in the subterranean walls. No thanks, no applause for the discovery. Instead, a ban. He should not investigate any further and play normally, like his little sister.