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Chapter 72 - Voids to Fill
🕑 Added 2024-11-10 04:53:07 +0000 UTC2nd of Season of Fire, 57th year of the 32nd cycle
“Huh?” That wasn’t Magmin?
“What happened with the cores?” Still obsessed with money, Newt hardly considered the embarrassing question as it escaped lips. Luckily, Elder Woodhopper misunderstood his concern.
“Both the Cloud Monarch’s and the emperor’s are presumed to have exploded, wiping out all life in a huge area. It was a catastrophic calamity. Even those who escaped the immediate combat zone lost their lives.”
Newt shuddered. He had seen the explosion of third realm cores, and their power grew exponentially with each realm. Four tenth realm cores exploding would start a cataclysm.
As he formed the mental image, Elder Woodhopper pushed the giant gate, opening only a small side door, which was seamlessly hidden as a part of the colossal one. Newt followed her in, and as soon as he passed an invisible line, the stench of manure wafted into his nose. All around, beasts in large enclosures slept, ate, or played without a sound.
Newt gazed at the surreal sight, unable to identify half the dinosaurs he saw. The tiny ones, barely reaching up to his knees, had enclosures just as big as the hundred-foot-long longneck two pens away.
“So, you said snakes alone, right?” Elder Woodhopper brought Newt before a titanic creature, coiled and basking in the sun, its size easily matching the fifth realm frostworm. “Try taming this one. The sound can pass through now.”
Newt stared at the snake’s head, which was big enough to gobble him up in a single swallow.
“Greetings,” he hissed, and the serpent opened its eyes, locking its cruel gaze on him. Before Newt could come up with what he would tell the serpent, it uncoiled, raising its head, staring death at him.
“How do you ssspeak?” it asked, the tip of its tail rapidly slapping the ground, raising tiny puffs of dust.
“A friend taught me—”
“Liessss!” The colossal snake pounced, and Newt jumped back just as its head smashed into an invisible wall two yards ahead of him.
The snake stared death at him. “Graverobber! Thief! Treacherousss egg-eater!”
It kept hurling weird insults at Newt, and the Elder Woodhopper nodded before tapping white stone she had in her hand, and the snake’s curses disappeared.
“Follow me.” She led Newt to another invisible cage, this one hosting a rainbow-colored winged serpent. Newt admired the shimmering pattern of glistening scales on the creature’s wings when Elder Woodhopper tapped on her stone and motioned him with her head.
“Greetings,” Newt hissed again, and once more caught the serpent’s attention.
The twenty-foot-long slender reptile raised its head, looking at him with interest and without a hint of the mindless hatred, which overflowed from the titanic serpent.
“Good day.” The snake asked no questions and settled for observing Newt.
“I am Newstar, what is your name?”
“Rainbow cloud snake. Are you here to give me an offering of food? Luxurious oils to rub my wings? What kind of present did you bring me?”
Newt gazed at the snake. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, are you the present the slave has brought for me? It is an interesting gimmick, teaching one of your kind to speak, but why would I want to speak with an inferior species? Are you my new toy?”
Newt looked at Elder Woodhopper. “Why does this entitled snake think I’m its new chew toy?”
The sun-kissed woman nodded, her brow furrowed.
“So, you have a serpent’s tongue? I guess the myths are true sometimes.” Whatever the elder was talking about had nothing to do with Newt’s question, and she kept ignoring it. “You can understand all serpents, and serpents understand you. There’s something I’ve wanted to confirm for years, follow me.”
Elder Woodhopper brought Newt back towards the entrance and stopped when they reached the longneck’s pen.
If Newt was pressed to guess its exact species, he would have gone with diplodocus, but with the evolutions making it bulkier, it was difficult to tell.
Elder Woodhopper tapped the stone again, and the grayish-green diplodocus focused on the sudden flood of sound, slowly shifting its head towards them, still chewing on succulent greenish-purple horsetail leaves.
“Go ahead, say something.”
“Um, greetings?”
The diplodocus did not respond to Newt’s words, nor did its gaze flicker at Newt’s hiss.
“I guess longnecks really aren’t related to snakes.” Elder Woodhopper tapped the command stone once more, restoring the sound barrier. While Newt thought it was obvious that the two were not related, all the legs and the massive torso made it apparent in his mind, Elder Woodhopper seemed disappointed.
“So, you have the mythical snake tongue, which allows you to understand snakes and speak with them.” Elder Woodhopper went towards the exit, and Newt guessed his test was done and that he had probably failed. “The fact in itself is an interesting quirk, and may help you if you decide to dedicate your time to taming, but you have more important matters to take care of.”
They left through the tiny hatch on the giant gate, and the air once more turned fresh and flowery.
“You have huge gaps in your knowledge, and if you know what’s good for you, you will spend most of your next two-three years in the library. Don’t even try to work on your realm, it’s high enough as it is for your age. I’m fairly certain Alabaster will tell you the exact same thing, and you should take her words to heart.”
Newt nodded.
“What about my team’s missions?” Based on what Obsidian said, Newt did not have the luxury of reading books for several years. Not that he had the patience for it, either.
“All their deadlines are extended by three months until they incorporate a new member, so you have three months, then two mandatory missions per year, which will probably eat away some two months every year. Alabaster will explain in greater detail. She’s got five-six disciples, and she is a very dedicated master.”
“Honored Elder,” Newt did his best Dandelion imitation so far, “could you tell me which element is the most suited for taming beasts?”
Elder Woodhopper shrugged. “Any element is fine, as long as it matches or complements your companion. For instance, I’m yang earth, warm and life-nurturing, healing oriented, while my little Bronze is yin earth, cold and hard, metal oriented. We make a great team, and our bond allows us to coordinate better than most cultivators at the same realm.”
Do I want a giant serpent companion? Do I need one? Newt decided those were questions for later, much, much later.
Newt thanked Elder Woodhopper and headed back, thinking about what he should immediately focus on and dispelling her beautiful face from memory. He had plenty of things to do, check how much it would cost to arm himself, how to communicate with Elder Frostgrave, whether he could independently search for his parents, see a soother and talk to that amazing individual, but his mentor could probably direct him regarding all those topics.
And until he met Elder Alabaster, Newt had four hours of daylight and a whole night. He stopped before the building to which everyone pointed him to and looked at its sign.
Chamber of Tomes. A waste of time? All the answers Newt sought? The first encounter with a library and a librarian weighed heavily on Newt’s mind. How many resources will they ask per book? Only one way to find out.
Newt pushed open the door, failing to check the runes, which must have been laid inside the glass. Instead, he focused all his attention on an elderly lady. She was looking at him too, a book half lowered, leaning on the counter.
The first thing Newt noticed about her was that she had the heavy aura of one void of spiritual energy.
“Greetings, Senior,” Newt bowed, and the woman smiled lightly.
“Am I so frightening you need to steel yourself before opening the door?”
Newt swallowed a lump and stood straight.
“I have—” Newt hesitated. What kind of experience did he have with the imperial library? He came and lacked the resources to read anything. Recalling the situation yet again, he found the perfect word. “—a poor experience with libraries.”
“Well, we mustn’t have that. Reading and writing are fundamental skills in cultivation. Being able to understand and apply the experiences of others promotes your insight, being able to articulate and commit your thoughts to paper advances your own comprehension and sometimes gives unexpected enlightenment.”
The elderly woman smiled, light dimples forming on her wrinkle-free face, yet Newt hardly noticed her friendly expression. He focused on the whole of her, the wisdom in her eyes, the platinum-white hair, and her bearing told him this woman was probably the oldest human he had seen in his life.
“I’m—” Dammit, why am I so nervous in here? “—looking for answers and guidance.”
The librarian’s smile never left her face.
“Well, in that case, you have come to the right place.”
