Thus quietly, Grievous decided to go on a trip with Kaede to the organization's center on the northern border. The decision had settled within him like a stone dropped into still water, rippling outward with certainty.
'Without a doubt this would be the right choice,' Grievous thought as he prepared for the journey. 'Without it, this man will not leave his place as long as it is not necessary.' His mind was steady, his resolve clear. The quiet determination that defined him now pushed him forward.
The day passed with a gentle, unasasuming grace. The sun climbed lazily, casting long shadows over the landscape, then dipped below the horizon without fanfare. Evening came, brushing the sky with hues of deep violet and rose. Night followed, majestic and serene, with wide curtains of ink black stretched overhead, dotted with shining stars like scattered diamonds. The air was crisp, filled with the faint scent of pine and earth.
Grievous moved silently, a shadow among shadows. He slipped from his quarters with the grace of a cat, undetected and deliberate. The world around him seemed oblivious to his passage. As he approached Kaede's dwelling, the faint glow of lanterns flickered behind delicate paper screens. He paused briefly, steadying his breath.
Calmly, he gave her a mental command to take him to the organization's center. The connection between them was subtle yet unbreakable, a thread woven through countless encounters. Kaede's mind responded instantly, a nod without words, quiet and assured.
Then, Grievous folded himself into a small shadow inside Kaede's bag. His entire body compressed into the darkness, merging with the fabric as though becoming one with it. He carefully concealed his aura by stacking layered spells, weaving a complex web of magical defenses. His mask feature further aided the concealment, masking even the faintest trace of his presence. The bag was a vessel, a secret refuge on this covert journey.
Time drifted by quietly. Grievous felt the gentle sway of movement, the rhythm of travel. The world outside was a blur of changing scenery and shifting landscapes. He focused inward, attuned to the pulse of Kaede's mind and the subtle vibrations of their path.
Nearly two days later, they arrived at their destination. A magic transportation circle stood in a large nearby city, humming with arcane energy. Crossing through it was seamless, a brief flicker and they emerged at the organization's headquarters. The structure was imposing, a fortress of stone and steel that loomed against the sky.
Kaede moved with purpose. Calmly, she requested a message to be delivered to Maverang's laboratory. Her voice was steady, betraying no hint of the unease swirling beneath. The wait that followed stretched into six days, each one marked by quiet anticipation.
Finally, Maverang sent word inviting them to his palace. Kaede felt a strange pull, an inexplicable compulsion to proceed. She did not question it, her steps carried her forward, drawn like a moth to flame.
The palace was gigantic in every sense of the word. Towering spires rose against the sky, their tips lost in swirling clouds. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, telling stories of ancient battles and forgotten kings. Gardens bloomed with exotic flowers, their fragrances mingling in the air. The grandeur was overwhelming.
Upon entering, Kaede was swiftly escorted by one of the servants to Lord Maverang's meeting room. The corridors echoed with the soft click of footsteps, the rustle of silken robes. The room itself was spacious and dimly lit, illuminated by flickering candles that cast dancing shadows on the walls.
Kaede stepped inside and quietly stood in front of Maverang. His presence was commanding. He stood tall, his posture regal yet approachable. Sharp features were enhanced by an olive complexion that spoke of distant lands. His short black hair framed a face exuding timeless wisdom. Silver eyes, bright and piercing, held a depth of knowledge that captivated those who met his gaze.
He extended a long hand and invited Kaede to sit. "You must be Kaede, right?"
Grievous's senses prickled beneath the surface. He examined the man's mental defenses carefully. They were somewhat relaxed, surprisingly so. There would be no problems penetrating his mind if necessary. The calm facade belied the subtle vulnerabilities beneath.
As Kaede smiled and moved unexpectedly, Maverang suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head. He instinctively tried to resist, a flicker of alarm crossing his features. This resistance complicated matters for Grievous. Yet, his will and consciousness had been strengthened immensely, thanks to his time spent drowning in the Dream Waters. After pressing again with steady determination, Grievous's will and consciousness won the silent battle.
He sighed softly as he emerged from Kaede's bag, shedding the shadows that had concealed him. The room seemed to pulse with energy as Grievous began absorbing the old man's memories. They poured into him like a rushing river, vivid and unrelenting. He did not allow any fragments to slip away, every detail was captured, every secret laid bare.
The flickering candlelight danced across Maverang's face as he remained seated, unaware of the invisible invasion. His knowledge, his experiences, all became Grievous's to command. The room held its breath in silence, the weight of the moment hanging heavily between them.
Grievous felt the surge of power and insight course through him. This was more than information; it was a lifeline, a key to unlocking the mysteries that had shadowed his path. The journey had been long, but it was only the beginning.
---
Maverang was an experienced old man with 798 years of life etched into every line on his face. His memories were sharp, enhanced by years of cultivation and the rigorous development of his physical mind. This cultivation had somewhat amplified his Consciousness, allowing him to recall his entire life in vivid detail, from grand events to the smallest, almost forgotten moments.
Grievous wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, feeling the weight of the challenge ahead. 'If he had already equipped his mental defense, it would have been difficult for me to control him,' he thought. The old mage's mental fortitude was formidable, and Grievous knew better than to underestimate it.
Fortunately, it seemed that Maverang was lenient. Kaede's rank was only third, and perhaps that was why the old man had not yet fortified his mind against intrusion. Grievous reminded himself of a lesson well learned: a person should never underestimate their enemy, no matter how strong or frail they appear.
'A house is destroyed by ants, and so is the person if they lower their defenses,' Grievous mused, recalling battles where overconfidence had led to ruin. Even in sleep, he always placed defensive spells around himself and set alert spells directly connected to his mind. He was truly wary of everything and never looked down on anyone or anything.
After seizing the memories, Grievous gave a mental command, summoning all possible spells from his elements and those of the Faera. His mind was a calm sea now, plotting the next steps with precision. He then returned quietly to Kaede's bag, securing what he had gathered, before slipping away into the shadows.
---
Once home, Grievous settled into his chair as usual. The familiar creak of wood under his weight was a small comfort. He closed his eyes and let the flood of memories wash over him, drowning in the life of the old mage.
The man's true name was Mercum Harelt, heir to the noble Harelt family of the Marzera Empire. The Harelt family was a great noble house, one of the most powerful forces under the imperial family. Their influence stretched across the empire, their wealth and magic unmatched.
But the family had fallen victim to the imperial family's ruthless political machinations. Their treasures were plundered, their name sullied, and their legacy nearly erased. Yet Mercum had escaped this tragic fate.
He had been married into the noble Malocma family of the Kingdom of Myercudia. This alliance had saved him from the harsh downfall that befell the rest of his kin. The Malocma family was known for its strength and cunning, and their kingdom was a haven compared to the turmoil of Marzera.
With his wisdom and acute understanding, Mercum abandoned his bloodline and fled. He changed his appearance and identity, masking his noble origins with a new face and a new story. At that time, his strength was still at the third rank magician level, but his expertise was undeniable.
He was already an expert who would have been accepted anywhere. His talents opened doors quickly, and he climbed the ranks with steady determination. Slowly and quietly, he carved out a significant role in the organization where Grievous now found himself.
Over time, Mercum's status grew until he became one of the elders. This position granted him great authority and respect, allowing him to influence many decisions behind the scenes. His presence was commanding, yet he carried himself with the humility of someone who had seen much suffering.
The old man developed the habits of a researcher, spending most of his free time delving into the mysteries of magic. He experimented by creating new spells from the many elements at his disposal, though his primary foundation remained in Time magic.
His mastery was impressive. He had reached the rank of Time Elemental Master, Shadow Elemental Master, and Metal Elemental Master. These titles reflected his deep understanding and control, a rare combination that few could rival.
His foundation was incredibly strong. Though his family had perished, Mercum had already secured a legacy of his own. His luck, or perhaps fate, had been unusually kind.
He and his wife were visiting her family at the time of the family's destruction, a coincidence that had saved his life. This twist of fate spared him from the cruelty that had consumed his kin.
As Grievous absorbed these memories, he began to understand the old mage's motivations and fears. Mercum had lived through immense loss but had adapted and thrived in a new world.
Grievous's mind traced the paths Mercum had walked, the choices he had made. Each memory was a thread in a fate filled with triumph and tragedy.
The knowledge Grievous now held was invaluable. It was more than just spells and power, it was a history, a lesson in endurance and strategy. And Grievous intended to use it wisely.
He opened his eyes slowly and exhaled, feeling the weight of centuries settle around him. The old mage's legacy was now intertwined with his own. The path ahead was clearer, but the dangers remained ever present.
Grievous stood, his resolve hardened. The past had been revealed, and with it came the strength to face what was to come.