Time's Tragedies- The Books Of Beginning [2]

30. Mastermind

Robert Lloyd, 16 years old, unearthing a box from the ash coated earth outside the Dire Magnus's New York mansion. Opening it to find an ancient piece of paper with unreadable symbols around the edges, one side appearing worn and torn, like it had been ripped from a larger scroll. Robert's blood dripping onto the paper, turning the symbols the murky, slimy color that reflected his soul. Words appearing on the page for him to read. 

Robert, conversing with the paper, learning that it was enchanted to give answers to whomever fed it with blood, reflecting their voice, their soul. The revelation that this piece of paper wasn't the whole artifact and that with each piece retrieved, its power would grow.

Robert, seizing the chance to master this power and use it for his own motives. Robert, using the scroll's knowledge to escape from the magical council guards hunting for him. Robert, vowing to  find all seven pieces of the scroll, so all that knowledge and power could be his.

...........................

Robert Lloyd, just days away from turning 20, hefting his heavy backpack, sweat dripping off his face. He was in Argentina, of all places, hiking a mountain trail that had been erased from the normal world many years ago. But despite being human, Robert had ingrained himself into the magical world. He could cast no spells, yet still he wielded power. The irony was delicious, it brought a grin to his face.

The scroll that he had found a few years ago, the one that had given him the knowledge needed to hide and thrive all this time, had lead him here. To search for one of its many missing pieces that had been scattered to the wind. How, Robert could not make the scroll tell. It was powerful, but being ripped apart gave it limits. He hoped that the more pieces he acquired, the closer to all knowing it - and he - could become.

The scroll had also helped him find his companion, a local sorcerer in his forties, who had devoted twenty years of his life to the study of the dark arts. He had been all too pleased to assist the former spy of the Dire Magnus, whom he had admired greatly. Especially when said spy had promised him a reward. 

And if the sorcerer thought he had powers untold, well, all the better. The more Robert could make people fear him, the less they would question his magical abilities or lack therefore-of.

The Argentinian sorcerer led him to the ruins of what had once been a healer's building, centuries ago. It was rumored that the healers had an ancient text that told them how to make the medicines they were famed for. The sick would come here to be healed by magic, back when the two worlds intertwined.

"It's better as ruins, if you ask me," the sorcerer scoffed.

Robert decided not to mention that he was human. If his plans were successful, he would soon be something more, anyways.

The healer's temple was forbidden to enter, by the customs of the local magical folk, out of respect for the dead and respect for a different time of life. But Robert's companion cared little about that decree, and he himself cared even less. So, they broke in, searching a rain and wind weathered alter until finally, Robert found what he was looking for.

A secret compartment, tucked under the stone to protect the treasure from the elements. Robert bit his lip to suppress a grin as he took the shard of scroll, marked with the same distinctive symbols as the first. 

Two pieces down. 

"Lloyd, have you found something?" His older companion asked.

"Nothing," Robert lied, tucking the piece of paper away. He had no interest of sharing this power with anyone.