I heard his voice

16th of Shar 358

I heard his voice.

For the first time in years, I heard my teacher; I heard Memory's voice. I looked around, trying to find the source of his voice. He called out to me, trying to lead me to where he was. I had to find him, I had to reach him somehow. But I didn't know where his voice was coming from. It seemed to come from the golden thread. I couldn't stop myself from putting the book down and quietly and slowly approaching it. I saw the elf touch the silver thread, and I watched as it entered inside of their skin. But I couldn't stop myself from approaching. The elf started shaking on the ground, their veins glowing silver, and a billowing blackness was coming out of their mouth, eyes, and fingertips. The silver thread exited from their mouth, slowly making its way back to the golden thread. The starry figure tried to hit the thread with a book, but it sliced through it.

The masked figure grabs my arm and the starry figure's arm, bringing us over to the strands. They say to grab the golden thread, and we both grab the thread. The masked figure grabs both threads. As we touch the thread, the room fills with a golden light. I felt warm, calm, like my energy had been rejuvenated. The golden thread then shatters in my hands, the golden light fading away. I looked around and saw the masked figure and the starry figure]] glowing with a golden aura. The silver thread disintegrates, and the elf wakes up. I felt like something has changed about me. I'm not entirely sure what has changed but since then, I am able to tell how old things are by touching them and get a faint sense of what it has been through. I took the book that was next to the elf and picked it up, and it felt empty. It felt like I was the first one to ever touch this book.

After the golden auras around us began to fade, we helped the elf up to their feet and headed to the other hall, the Scribe of Dragons. We were hoping to maybe find someone who could answer our questions as to why we were there. When we arrived, we were greeted by a large pile of gold, coins, and treasure. Atop this pile was a rectangular box of glass; inside it a body holding a scroll. Something inside of me felt like the scroll was the reason we came here. The starry figure, the masked figure, and I approached the pile of gold. I picked up a coin, and the only sense I could gather from it was that it felt... hungry.

It was then that a tentacle and maw rose from the pile of artifacts as the masked person stepped onto the pile toward the glass box. The maw opened, and it bit at the masked man's leg, and a tentacle came out from the pile and attacked me, grappling me. It slammed me against the wall, and the sheer impact mixed with the tentacle constricting me hurt a lot. It felt like my ribs would crack if it put even a bit more pressure. I struggled to try and get out of its grasp, but to no avail. The others started fighting the creature in the gold, now known to be a mimic. Then everyone disappeared! The monster, the masked and starry figure, the elf, the body in the box—everyone disappeared, but I was still being held by the tentacle. Then they didn't all disappear; rather, everyone turned invisible. The mimic then spoke to me, telling us it will devour us for our insolence and for stealing from the scribe. It was very angry. I struggled more but was still not able to escape. The starry figure and the monster appeared; the starry figure cutting the tentacle that was grappling me. After this, the masked man appeared, trying to convince the monster to stop fighting. The mimic concedes, and the masked man puts what seemed to be a healing ointment on where its tentacle was cut off. It was then that the elf rushed up to the pile of gold, hitting the glass container with a hammer. It lodged in and they pulled the container. A loud boom resonated through the whole room, sounding like a gunshot had been fired right next to me. The box shot across the room, and the body and scroll fell to the floor where it once stood.

It was at this point that I noticed the others couldn't see me. Maybe if I took the scroll, I could see what was inside it and communicate it to the others; maybe it had a way out of here. I took the scroll out of the body's hand, and it started to claw desperately in my direction. I focused on making myself visible after that, holding the scroll close to my chest. The body is now known to us as Scribe. They did not seem dangerous, but our questions seemed to confuse them. They made the mimic disappear into a pile of ash, which then turned into a long billowing scarf. We decided to open the scroll to see what was inside. (cont.)

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