Silence shrouded the Donjon like a thick cloud.
It was heavy and dense.
…As if the world itself was holding its breath.
Alden's good eye darted across the page.
Constant. Never-ending. An incessant hum.
It is in your voice, warped and twisted.
It is in your bones, heavy and unrelenting.
Insanity is a tightrope, one which only the most courageous, desperate and foolish dare dance upon its edge.
So long as we walk this road of ours, it is but a cold, hard, inescapable truth. Surrounded by the chaos of a dying world, what other alternative is there, other than to go mad?
I fear my days of sound mind are numbered.
To whomever is fortunate enough to stumble upon this, I shall bestow upon you some wisdom I, regrettably, have come to learn far too late. That is, to avoid madness, one must undergo a journey of epic proportion. They must keep a tight hold of their identity, and strive to always be true to themselves, no matter what.
Experience an inner odyssey.
I wish I followed that.
Instead, I focused too much on my immediate goals and on weathering that dreadful storm.
I suppose, Arkanis is better off for it now.
But, as I slowly approach my end, I gaze at the heavens and wonder if there will ever come a time when a child will be born into this world who could do what I could not. Who can resist madness, and usurp the Celestial Throne.
...I hope they succeed.
At the very bottom of the page, the Hero hastily scribbled a few extra words:
"…Beware of the Divine Sovereigns. Avoid them at all costs."
He sat there, frozen, a blank look on his face, his mind numb with shock.
This… was not what he had expected.
He had thought the excerpt would perhaps describe what life was like back then, closer to the inception of the Apocalypse… maybe recount a particularly fearsome battle, or shed more light on how exactly the Races had gone extinct. How the Sanctuary was created, and who was responsible for its formation - Alden had a distinct feeling the Hero was involved with that.
Still, it was not as if the worn-out page contained nothing at all.
In fact, Alden found its contents quite troubling. After all, the Hero had admitted with great honesty that he was slowly losing his mind. If a peerless figure like him couldn't avoid such a fate, what hope did Alden and the others in the Sanctuary have?
There was also the piece of wisdom.
One had to experience an inner odyssey.
Was the Hero hinting that Alden had to embrace change as it came? If so, how would he be able to keep a tight hold of his identity, if it kept changing?
Perhaps the answer lay in the next words the unparalleled champion had written.
'Staying true to myself…'
Maybe the Hero was referring to growth, and the importance of staying grounded, refusing to forsake your values in return for greater strength.
Alden sighed and closed his good eye, his temple throbbing from how much he was using his brain. He let his body sag into the soft cushions of his chair as his thoughts instinctively turned towards the last section of the entry.
…The Hero's warning at the very bottom, advising him to avoid the Divine Sovereigns at all cost.
'Fat chance of that…'
A bitter look flashed across Alden's features. He sighed, shoulders slumping slightly, before he forcibly shook off his dejection. Now was not the time to worry about that.
His expression turned extremely solemn, as his mind spun together, tying several knots.
'Madness. Celestial Throne. Divine Sovereigns…'
It wasn't hard to deduce the Celestial Throne was related to those god-like beings. Perhaps it was the name given to their perch, from where they gazed down upon all of existence and handed out their judgement. Alden wondered why the Hero wanted to "usurp" the Divine Sovereigns.
Did he not idolise them like the rest of the Sanctuary did?
If so, what did that mean for his fellow survivors of the Great Collision? Did they also hold the same view? Or were they grateful for the otherworldly beings' assistance?
…What did the Hero learn that made him desire something so grand and something so reckless?
Alden internally groaned, his headache reaching its peak.
'So many questions, so few answers…'
He cursed, frustrated with his lack of knowledge.
However, right now, he knew it was for the best that he was so clueless. After all, there was nothing he could do with the new information. At worst, it could even have a negative effect, causing him to rush without consolidating his foundation.
It could also have an unknown mystical effect - if the Asterons could gaze at them from above, who was to say they couldn't find out when someone learned a particularly important secret?
Suddenly, Alden stood up.
He felt trapped in his own mind, he had to move. To do anything other than fall into the endless spiral his brain tempted him with. The white-haired young man paced, the sound of his feet striking wood, sharp and clear in the silence.
He glanced at the spacious room, taking note of the large sheets of paper strewn across the floor. Large, voluminous brush strokes covered their expanse, resembling words and characters he did not recognise - perhaps it was an ancient tongue lost to time.
The stunning calligraphy helped take his mind off the Hero's words, albeit temporarily.
Morrigan asked gently, a smile in her voice.
Alden's didn't turn around.
"Yes… it's beautiful."
"I'm glad. It took a lot of effort to prevent that from becoming obsolete."
Alden hummed, staring at the piece a little while longer.
Eventually, he turned around and locked gazes with the enigmatic oracle, her milky-white eyes unseeing, as she stared back at him.
"How come there is no trace of the Hero anywhere? Surely, someone as accomplished and esteemed as him deserves to be known?"
Morrigan shot him a warning look.
Alden's unspoken question lingered in the air.
The Keeper remained silent.