《Seraphim. Nocturna of the Eternal Chains》[1] Mundane and Arcane
Advertisement
~SKYLAR AMBERLY VITALIS
---
[LINK ESTABLISHED]
[SYSTEM INITIALISING]
[ERROR: INCOMPATIBLE DIMENSION DETECTED!]
[ERROR: NO AMBIENT MAGICA DETECTED!]
[ERROR: CONTRACTED ENTITY DOES NOT MEET BASE REQUIREMENT THRESHOLD!]
[ENTERING LOW-POWER INITIALISATION. ALL SYSTEM AUXILARIES IN SLEEP-MODE]
[IMPLIMENTING COUNTERMEASURES… PLEASE STANDBY (LOADING… 2.58%)]
[ESTIMATED TIME TO FULL AWAKENING: 7HRS]
“Hey?!” Oliver snapped me out of my trance by placing a hand on my shoulder, “You okay Skye…?”
His eyes searched my face for something as his brows settled into a frown.
“Yeah…” I closed my eyes tightly for a second as I shook my head clear of the cottony, stuffed feeling.
“You just-” he struggled to find the correct words for a moment, “-froze up for a sec.”
“I uhm… I zoned-out for a bit. It’s been a busy week.” I told him absently as analysed the book I had picked up. “I haven’t had much sleep. I think I got auditory hallucinations at one point a few days ago.”
“That doesn’t sound good…” He chuckled at his own pun as he moved away from me, turning his attention to all the weirdness in the room surrounding us.
“Just a little booked on commissions, and pressed for time. Got some sleep in recently though.” I refocused on the book I had just picked up from the old, crumbling wooden pedestal.
I could have sworn that the carving of the pentagram beneath the tome had glinted in the sunlight filtering through the thick draperies that covered the semi-boarded windows.
But the carved amalgamation of weird glyphs and sigils were engraved in black and the layer of dust that had settled upon it masked the lustre of the cracked and pealing old varnish.
A clean rectangular impression was left in the middle of the esoteric circle. A testament to how long the heavy object had remained untouched.
“Hey, is this a Necronomicon of sorts?” I lifted the book I held at him so that he could see it above the low standing aisles of waist-high boxes.
Oliver glanced over his shoulder, but simply shrugged without a word of comment.
It was a hardcover tome, but the surface was inlaid with thick bands of silvery metal in the design of vines and chains.
The design of the book’s cover was very finely detailed. The vines even had actual miniature thorns, while the chains were made of individual tiny links.
The book didn’t have a title, and flipping it open… revealed nothing.
“It’s blank.” I announced out loud as I flipped through the pages.
But my confusion grew with the sound of each flip, before I realised why.
The book was clearly old. The metal design and the very leather of its hardcover were worn and scratched in places. However, the thick pages within, were pristine white… Not even yellowed by time like they should have been.
I paused when I noticed a dot of red smear across the lower edge of one page as I slid my finger across to flip it.
Advertisement
‘I must have nicked it on one of the vines’ thorns when I picked it up.’ I thought as I looked at the finger that was beading another drop of blood.
It wasn’t deep. I couldn’t even feel it.
“Do you want to keep it?” Oliver asked, sighing as he picked up another box to rummage through.
“It’s huge. I could use it as a fancy sketch book.” I said half-jokingly. “Maybe draw some disturbing sketches of skull and bones to really spice up the theme of the cover.”
“Sure.” He replied in all seriousness. “Dad said they’ll be demolishing this place by the end of the week. The workers will start removing stuff tomorrow.”
I walked over to my bag and stuffed my new sketchbook into it. “Who did this place belong to anyways?” I questioned.
He arched a brow, “Now you ask?”
“Your hobby for old things baffles me sometimes, and I have to make sure you’re not doing anything illegal.”
“Says the one who just shove a book probably worth hundreds into her bag.” he said smugly.
“You gave me permission.” I returned the smugness.
“I’m not finding anything here that interests me. Just old books and candles and dust.” he said, kicking a box and causing it to topple over and noisily spill it’s plethora of paper files.
“Don’t you find it strange that it’s all written in foreign languages?” I asked.
“Dad was once contracted to a place with a basement filled with pickled animals.” he said.
“Pickled… animals…?” I frowned.
“Yeah, you know… Like snakes and rats and stuff in jars of this smelly yellowish liquid.”
“You mean formaldehyde.” I realised. “Basement of preserved animals, huh?”
“Police took over that place.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Three jars of human brains.”
My eyes went wide in surprise, but I remained silent and didn’t push the conversation further.
“It’s time for me to head out anyways. I’ll be late to get home otherwise.” I changed the subject.
“Pressed to leave me all alone with this stuff, huh?”
“It’s an hour ride back to the city. Unless you’re scared of finding a jar of dirt or something.”
“What a fucking nerd reference!” he laughed, “I’m kiddin’ though. I’ll text you if I find anything of interest.”
“Will you be okay?” I asked in genuine concern as I shouldered my bag.
“Yeah… Sis will be swinging by with the car in two hours to pick me up with whatever I manage to drag out with me.” He waved me away in a shooing motion.
“Catch you later.” I waved as I walked out of the room and out of the old abandoned house.
Oliver’s father being a contractor that took care of repairing or dismantling places like that, was probably where Oliver had developed his hobby for collecting old and interesting things.
Advertisement
It definitely helped that his father allowed him to roam around some of the safer abandoned places. And take whatever other people wouldn’t mind going missing.
Oliver even makes some auction cash from most of it… which he uses to buy more.
And with me being his best friend, we’ve had our fair share of exploration experience under our belts.
As I walked over to my bike, I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound moving chains.
A slow and dragging rhythm of metal links sliding across a stone surface that started as a less than a whisper.
I stopped walking. Standing there silently and trying to hear it over the sound of my own breathing… which I now noticed was rather loud and heavy despite the fact that I hadn’t done anything that strenuous, other than going down a small flight of stairs in the old house.
The sounds of the moving links stopped as well.
I felt uneasy… for some reason It seemed to have originated from inside my own head.
[COMPATIBLE EVOLUTION VARIANTS FOUND]
My vision swam vaguely. Not enough to disturb my balance, but it was almost like I had a film of tears sloshing in my eyes.
I blinked and my weird vision was gone.
‘Oliver was right, my lifestyle for the past month is coming back to bite at me.’ I shook my head.
[SELECTING BEST FIT…]
I suddenly shook my head on reflex as the crackled of radio static drowned out every other sound.
Yet it was gone from my ears before I could even wince at the assault on my brain.
“What is happening?!” I could taste the aftermath of the metallic white noise on my tongue.
“[DEMONIC CHIMERA]”
I spun around so fast at the multitude of voices that whispered and shouted the same words simultaneously in dozens of different tones, genders and age.
I was puzzled when I found myself staring at a door.
The sharp change between a weedy, overgrown front yard of a dilapidated old wooden plank house to a pristine white door nearly knocked me off my feet.
But the setting felt oddly familiar…
“Hey Skye, you’re back.”
I turned around. More slowly this time.
I came face to face with a young Japanese woman who was standing in the middle of the room.
The cogs in my head clicked, and I realised that I was standing upon the tiled floor of my penthouse home.
“Fumiko… you’re here.” I frowned.
“Yeah.” my sister answered me, misinterpreting my question. “I came back early, and I’m nearly done cooking.”
I was asking if she was here, as in ‘present in physical form’. And if all this was real.
My mind was still reeling and my heart had started beating in my throat, but I was more apprehensive towards the situation rather than scared.
I didn’t remember getting back home!
My bag was still slung in the same position over my shoulder and nothing seemed to have changed other than my location.
The setting sun over the treetops was now replaced by the dark sky and busy nightlights of the rest of the tall buildings outside the penthouse windows.
A vague feeling of a sense of prolonged movement brushed the back of my mind – almost like something forcing upon me a set of false memories to trigger a déjà-vu of events that had never occurred.
Maybe it was my brain compensating for the hole in my memories – like that one time I got dead drunk and didn’t recall how I got to my bed.
But I hadn’t consumed anything. At least nothing that I was aware of.
Shaking myself from the shock and daze, I pulled my phone from my pocket and unlocked it.
Oliver had texted about thirty minutes ago, and I had replied. But I couldn’t recall doing it!
And there was an entire conversation too!
It was about his sister’s nagging as she picked him up.
I checked the current time and did a rough calculation…
A little over two hours had gone by.
I hadn’t teleported. I had moved.
However, I could only remember the ride along the narrow dirt road to the old house. I had no recollection of the ride back or of anything that had happened for the extra hour after that.
“Demonic Chimera…” I repeated, then waited.
Nothing happened.
I took a few careful steps into the open floorspace.
Nothing happened.
I spun around like I had previously.
Nothing happened.
A thought crossed my mind and I panicked a little as I wondered if the contents of my bag was okay.
Frowning to myself, I swung it off my shoulder and looked within.
Nothing was missing.
Well… not the items anyways.
The metal vines and chains on the leather cover of the empty tome were gone.
There were only indentation marks left on the hardcover to indicate that they were ever there.
I flipped the book open. Shuffled through the pages twice – being more meticulous the second time around.
“The blood is gone too…” I mumbled to myself, weirded out and baffled.
“What are you doing in the middle of the floor?” Fumiko puzzled over me as she walked past. “Go take a bath before you sit at the table. You’ve got dust all over you.”
[(LOADING… 30.77%) ESTIMATED TIME TO FULL AWAKENING: 5HRS 18MINS]
“Yeah, yeah.” I sighed as I dragged my things to my room. “Some love and less nagging would be nice.” I teased.
“You’re dirtying the damn floor!” She shouted at me.
Advertisement
- In Serial106 Chapters
BROKEN CHAINS
A young orphaned street child and thief stumbles head first into a world of cultivation. She uncovers her bloodline and follows the path of cultivation.This is the story of Yun Kou, how she climbs her way up this cultivation world, filled with powerful clan's, Wild Spirits, Demons and Beasts and cultivation sects. Many tropes of common cultivation novels are used.But there won't be any cheats.
8 206 - In Serial8 Chapters
Rewound and Rewritten
How many times have you wished you'd done things differently? Made better choices, put in more effort or worked towards a different goal altogether? But unfortunately, you know life doesn't work that way, thus you have to treat and treasure every moment as if it were your last, lest you leave behind any regrets. But if you were truly given a second chance, if time was actually rewound... would you really act upon those goals?? Potentially rewriting your fate, and that of those around you?? This is one my first stories, so kindly excuse my grammar. I don't own the cover pic, so if the owner has an issue then please PM me, I'll take it down...
8 127 - In Serial6 Chapters
Devil-Marked
For over two decades, Vincent of Greenhills resisted the pull of his own innate talent. He concealed the mark of his birth, and travelled to the remote ends of the world to remain unnoticed and unremarked. But when his young daughter inherits a similar curse, she proves far less adept at hiding her powers. And they both pay a price for her desire to do good. With little left to lose and vengence left to gain, how much of his soul, both figuratively and literally, will he spend?
8 265 - In Serial7 Chapters
Coachman's Voyage
For ordinary people, the road is anything but special. It is just an ordinary place that connected many places. They travel on it to get to their next destination. The road itself is not their main concern. It is their destination that matter most. Whatever and whichever road it is, as long as they got to their destination, it really doesn't matter.But for a coachman, it is anything but simple. As they make their livelihood on the road, it has become more than just a simple place that connects one point to another. For them, it is a place that connects stories. It is a place that connects ideas. It is a place that connects people. It is a place that connects life itself. It is their main concern in their entire life. It is their gateway to the strange and magnificent fate itself.
8 126 - In Serial9 Chapters
Ideas for animatics: Genshin Impact
These are just like little storyboards that I think up of when I listen to a song and need to write it down :)
8 143 - In Serial38 Chapters
Whodunnit? Murder On Mystery Cove
"Dear Giles, I'm sure you already know what this note is going to say. Please, do find solace in this as it once again means your life is spared, but for many of this next set of guests, they will be scared. Not only for their lives but scared quite literally. I have enclosed some information on the back of this letter. Follow the rules and no harm will come to you or your staff." ~Delightfully yours, the Killer.Once again, Giles the butler finds himself stranded in a mysterious manor with an evil killer. The killer has invited eleven guests including themself to stay a few weeks at Dawson Cove in Devonshire, England. The rules are simple. Each week, one person will die and the other guests have to solve the crime of how they were murdered. They will then make their cases and the game will continue. Until there is only one winner and the killer. This may just be the sickest most vile killer yet and it could be any one of them. Might it be the the inquisitive therapist, the dog trainer, the CEO of a multi-million dollar company, or could it be the definition of a broadway star? Trust no one. Good luck.
8 157

