"It's a well-known fact that demons can never be trusted. The boy wished for his younger siblings to be happy for the rest of their lives, but the demon had no intention of honoring such a long-term contract. So, it tampered with the agreent. The power of fate woven into the pact would guide the boy to eventually murder his own family—those dearest to him—and then take his own life. This would drastically shorten the contract's term, allowing the demon to claim the boy's soul ahead of schedule."
"Just like that?"
"Of course not!"
Papa Oliver's voice was filled with agitation.
"The boy knew that demons were cunning, but he was a kind and simple soul. He believed that if he paid his price, the demon would honor its word. And so... he took his own life."
Jenkins ran a hand through his hair, at a loss for words.
"A contract can be twisted, but its core must be fair to both parties—even if the favorable clauses are usually sidestepped. The most secret archives record that the boy's premature death prevented the contract's grim fate from coming to pass. The power of destiny backfired, striking the demon. A portion of that power then flowed back into the boy's soul.
And so, the boy beca a new demon—a demon wielding the power of fate. A newborn, yet utterly enigmatic demon."
"So..."
"So it was sealed away forever by the Orthodox Church. Rember this, Jenkins: once sothing becos a demon, it can never, ever return to normal."
Papa Oliver said this with a restless energy. He seed off today, particularly after telling that story. It must have stirred up mories from his youth—Jenkins recalled hearing so of those tales the last ti they were in the Mysterious Realm.
Jenkins completed his daily transcription work that morning, then skipped lunch and asked for the afternoon off to head to the church. He still had a mountain of research to get through.
Renovations at the Church of Knowledge and Books had been ongoing for a fortnight. By the ti of his visit, the chapel and the grand library were nearly fully restored. Jenkins didn't see Captain Bincy, but after a few quiet inquiries, he learned the captain had gone to the docks to welco a delegation of missionaries returning from the Broken Isles.
"Oh, right. The church's combat unit is due back today."
The thought finally struck him as he crossed the courtyard toward the low-rise building. He greeted the young man at the door, then made his way to room 0123 and descended into the secret passage that led underground.
Old-fashioned oil lamps were set into the walls flanking the spiral staircase. After several turns, the stairs opened into a vast chamber. At the far end stood a pair of ancient bronze doors, inscribed with verses praising the Sage, along with intricate sealing runes and ritual arrays. It was rumored that the Frost Emissary, Brute, had been trapped here for an entire day, but the space now showed no trace of a struggle.
Guarding the great doors was a man well past his fiftieth year. Like Mr. Smith, whom Jenkins knew, he was one of the church's Keepers of Secrets. And beyond those bronze doors lay the church's greatest secrets.
"I am Jenkins Redemptor Williams."
As he spoke, he spread his hands, and the sapling-shaped Soul Emblem materialized between them. The old man's wrinkled lips remained shut, yet a weathered voice echoed in Jenkins's mind.
"Destination."
"The Secret Trace Library."
Jenkins replied calmly. The Grand Library, on the church's main floor, was open to all believers. This subterranean section, however, was accessible only to the church's Enchanters.
"Your clearance is level four," the old man stated. "You have access to the first floor for a duration of six hours. I trust you've brought a tipiece."
Level 0 was the highest clearance and 5 was the lowest, a system not unlike the security ratings for Series A, B, and C items. Based on his great service of sacrificing the divine essence, Jenkins should have been granted access to most of the library and its subterranean collections. For so unknown reason, however, the reward from the Holy See had yet to arrive, and the local diocese was in no position to overstep its bounds by bestowing the honor prematurely.
The bronze doors parted just enough to form a narrow slit, splitting the enormous holy emblem of the Sage in the center.
"I understand, sir."
Jenkins nodded to the old man and quickly slipped inside.
He rembered Papa Oliver telling him that these bronze doors led to different locations depending on how far they opened. In Jenkins's Eye of Reality, the massive doors pulsed with a brilliant yellow aura. This was B-10-5-0400, the Gate of All Things, one of the most precious artifacts belonging to the Church of Knowledge and Books in the Nolan diocese.
Beyond the gate lay a long corridor with an arched ceiling constructed entirely from red stone bricks. Simple chandeliers hung at ten-ter intervals, their candles giving off a peculiar, pleasant fragrance.
The candles were made from an exceedingly rare spice known to sharpen the mind and enhance mory. A single stick was worth more than Jenkins's annual salary.
The corridor was lined with row after row of bookshelves. Near the entrance sat a table, upon which rested a massive to: the catalog for the Secret Trace Library.
"Be cautious."
Jenkins told himself.
This was one of the church's most important sites; Jenkins assud he was under observation. A quick scan of the room revealed faint spiritual auras everywhere. While not as brilliant as the glow from a Series A, B, or C item, it was safe to assu that every inch of the floor was protected by ritual enchantnts.
Jenkins didn't dare search directly for the information he truly sought. Instead, he first settled in to research questions that had arisen during his apprenticeship with Papa Oliver. He made a show of browsing randomly, flipping through a few books here and there like a curious newcor. After a considerable while, he finally found information about the cubic tal seal.
It was a rather peculiar sealing thod, one that required large quantities of high-purity gold, silver, and other special tals infused with spirit.
Through a ritual, six different sealing declarations were applied, causing the tals to form a solid shell around a specific item. On the one Jenkins had destroyed, only the holy emblem of the Eternal Blazing Sun had remained active; the other five seals had failed. He had been incredibly lucky.
The ritual's drawbacks were significant. First, it was prohibitively expensive. Second, while it could shield the sealed object from divination, it did nothing to suppress the object's own powers. Most critically, the records stated that the origin of the ritual was unknown, and bizarre incidents often occurred during its casting. The church possessed far better sealing thods, rendering this one largely impractical.
"This thod won't work for sealing the bone."
Jenkins felt a pang of disappointnt.
Due to the generic nature of the seal, he still couldn't guess the origin of that drop of divinity. Still, no one had co to claim it in thirty years. It shouldn't cause any trouble... right?
Jenkins offered a cautious prayer to the Sage, only to imdiately feel the act was deeply sacrilegious.
He found no information on the orange earring. However, while searching through files on Extraordinary items, he made an unexpected discovery.
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