Well...

Hilda has perished... Who would've thought...

Yet, before You come to even imagine the ridiculous notion that I have made some sort of mistake, her sacrifice was worth every drop of blood, indubitably so!

 Because what roams within these halls now, is-

 I have gotten considerably ahead of myself. Let me return to the dawn of this sequence of occurrences.

 To the eve, whence I recalled my wish to explore the Grimoire once again.

 A twilight for an ignorant existence I used to accept!

 The curtains rose a couple of days after my last entry. It was a calm evening, and I was indulging in a cup of some truly sensational cha. Seems as though Hilda, throughout her aristocratic origins, had taken it upon herself to learn the delicate ins and outs of crafting the most exquisite herbal beverage. Her inquisitive mind seems to have blossomed from quite an early age indeed.

 Back on topic!

 As I was enjoying my warm refreshment at the top of my tower- Which I have named ''The Star-Gazers Tower'' due to the balcony at the top of it, where the vast painting of the night's sky presents itself for my viewing pleasure- the thought struck me, that the Grimoire was still sitting under my table, where I had kicked it one morning.

 I had tripped over it in a groggy state of mind and slid it not only under the desk but also out of my memory.

 Out of sight, out of mind, as they say!

 Now, Arvel had been away on a commerce trip to a nearby town, while Hilda had been perusing the library. Servos was warming my lap, as I watched the sun drift beneath the cloudless horizon. An atmosphere of absolute tranquility.

 Be that as it may, this thought of a presumably empty book scratched at the back of my mind. Thus, after emptying the contents of my cup and nearly launching Servos over the railing, I rushed below the tower and into my quarters. Only to find the book resting atop my pillow, as if waiting to have its secrets unveiled.

 It is hard to explain, yet I felt as if something beckoned me to open its covers, and I do not usually bend to another's will...

 So the choice to gaze within the volume was my own! Understand!

 Now, as my fingers flipped its pages, I had expected to see the same stale blankness of aged parchment, yet what greeted me was...

 Actual text.

 Pages upon pages of information- delivered in the form of passages and paragraphs, strange symbols, and even sketches.

 I had nary a clue of how this had been possible, as I distinctly recalled my previous attempt to read it. Yet, here it was, in my hand, feeling almost heavy with the amount of information it held captive. And at the moment, I cared little for the reasons of how and why, as I poured myself another cup of tea, and read like I've never read before.

 One thing of note is that the writing, as complex and ancient as it was, seemed not to be written utilizing ink. Evidently, the text has been almost burnt or molded into the paper. As if no mortal hand has had anything to do with its contents...

 From then on, I spent a week indulging in the mysterious codex, barely paying attention to the darkened corners of rooms I roamed through, as the shadowy gazes only increased in potency.

 I did observe a certain pattern.

 While under the tower, the text is readable and comprehensible, above, in the tower itself, it becomes more complex, almost as if my brain loses its function to perceive its meaning. Also, seems as though, if I am above ground and the sky hides behind a blanket of clouds, the text fades from its pages, the same as when I first explored its covers.

 That is some peculiar behavior... For a fucking book...

 Something to mention...

 I did seem to sully myself on the  43rd hour lost within its pages. I must admit, It was just a tad bit embarrassing, yet the codex seems to erase anything beyond its covers, devouring any semblance of my concentration. I never even noticed I was thirsty, much less hungry. Not to even mention fatigue.

 An interesting thing to note would be that the World Scar seems to barely react to it as if it was completely invisible within the Astral Realm. Its odd presence seems to create no ripples, which could mean one of two things: Either it holds so little power it is insignificant, or...

 It holds so much power, it bends the Astral Realm and conceals itself...

 Whatever the case might be, I have created a failsafe in case another overwhelming state of indulgence were to occur, where my muscles would suddenly flex and shut their covers every 2 hours. And were that to fail, a stone pillar below me would shoot out to remove the Grimoire from my grasp.

 Thus far they had scarcely been triggered.

 Now, about its contents:

 As I studied it cover to cover... Most of it escaped even my comprehension, yet there were some interesting revelations, experiments, and theories I could grasp. Some of which I later put to exceptional use.

 What piqued my interest most was the concept of runes- also known as Star Signs or Constellations. They are specific formations of celestial bodies, which, once arranged, open specific channels between the mortal realm and the Astral. The World Scar, as we call it, is simply a giant rune, which coincidentally etches upon the earth, converging the 2 realms.

 These runes can also be created in miniature forms and generally seem to govern the laws of this world.

 They can be seen within the roots of trees, the flow of rivers, and even the behavior of animals and even humans. Meaning, that if one would etch these specific runes onto an object, certain effects and conditions could become malleable.

 Now, they do not seem to be all-powerful, as there are certain laws one must follow to use them.

 Firstly, a unity between one's Astral body and his mortal one is critical, as the runes must be drawn simultaneously in both realms. That is why only coincidental and primal runes have governed the world thus far, as only the earth itself- apparently being a celestially governing body- can etch them into being.

 Unsurprisingly, I later discovered, that I am on par with a celestial governor, as I am able to draw certain runes myself.

 I mean, I am Me, of course...

 But that brings me to the second law, which states that one can only indulge in certain runes, depending on ''what'' they are. This seems to be a question of one's existential limitations, as no matter how expansive one's Astral body becomes, if at their core they are that ''something'', then only runes designed for them can be utilized.

 I reject such limitations, as I am a man without limits!

 Yet, the cosmos brings upon a third law, stating that runes may only be active in the direct presence of the Stars. In other words- only during a clear sky.

 It explains the strange behavior of the book, or so I think. Yet, if a clear sky is necessary, one would simply have to remove the clouds above.

 Hah! A simple system to exploit! Yet...

 This brings me to the fourth and final law, which ostensibly was left as vague as possible, only giving a single line of elaboration.

 And I quote: ''The Watcher covets insubordination, for a warden's duty and nurture is to take.''

 The name ''Watcher'' appears within these pages quite frequently, mostly as warnings or such, yet I only understood its weight after proceeding with some experimentation.

 Now, the Grimoire also elaborated on the cosmic and celestial substances, impacts, truths, and other caveats and logics of reality.

 Made my head hurt.

 Even my nose bled...

 They are too complex to transcribe. Just know, that a simple-minded creature such as Yourself would go mad, exposed to such revelations. Even my own tongue still trips in an attempt to word mere definitions.

 However, one thing that intrigued me was the discovery of the Astral realm to not be a barren land, as it houses many types of ''entities'', born out of the cosmos for no apparent reason.

 Something about balance or some such!

 These entities sometimes cross over to our world, causing either prosperity or chaos, rarely something in between. One of the ways how that is achieved is via runes. The World Scar being a runic effect seems to also open up a large enough path for these entities to occasionally emerge. That is why a Sorcerer might be born in the vicinity of such an event, as these entities grant a select few the ability to view and converse with the other plane.

 A mind-boggling revelation. Half of the Sorcerers in the world have been made by strange creatures from beyond our own understanding... Could it mean, that if one would learn the ways, they could manufacture Sorcerers?

 Intriguing...

 Also, as a side note. I have a feeling this ''Grimoire'' could be one such entity. Its presence is simply too unusual for it to be anything else.

 And in no pages did it state how to animate the dead. As if such information could not be found within its pages!

 To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. It felt like

a slap to my handsome face. I've been cheated!

 However, it gave me enough to begin concocting a new type of research, as not only did it tell me of runes, entities, and cosmic laws, but it also had a 10-step tutorial for everything mentioned.

 Thus I began brewing!

 To begin, first, I had to dispose of some remaining subjects from the previous experimentation process.

 I have utilized the dungeons beside my research space to hold and observe various alchemical reactions as well as to test my own capabilities on specific subjects. I had taken the liberty to acquire these subjects from Lockrifta's citizenry, who have devoted their very beings to the scholarly purpose of research and progress. Even if they would disagree themselves.

 I am still pleased to see my and Arvel's previous tactics of drugging one's beverage come into fruition to this day. I suppose great ideas, same as a brilliant mind, do not stale.

 Also, do not worry! I am aware some might find this practice unwelcome in their peaceful society. Thus I have devised a simple, yet effective way to dispose of expired subjects. The ''Start Stone'', which I have dubbed the strange mineral composing this underground palace, simply opens up and throws them into the raging sea.

 A week later the bodies wash ashore, thus creating a valid explanation for their absence. Lowborn of all shapes, sizes, and ages can drown. It is not uncommon.

 Thus, The Saint of Lockrifta, which is Me, may proceed uninterrupted.

 They do sometimes question the strange effects the bodies might have, yet it is not as if any lowborn has the comprehension prowess to concoct a post-mortem hypothesis. I doubt they even know what that is, the powerless fools!

 Hilda did display displeasure with such practices, yet she understood the price of knowledge better than anyone. One look in the mirror reminded her of her own sacrifices.

 That, however, might be unrelated... Anyway!

 Back to my earlier musings!

  After clearing out the holding cells, I began with some minor experiments. Interestingly, the Grimoire seemed to show me the exact page I wished to see every time I opened the volume.

 I began with some rune practice and immediately uncovered more limitations to their effect.

 Essentially, one could draw, etch or compose any rune, yet its effect depended on 2 elements. The first being its size while the second being the very method and tool used for its creation.

 The size is pretty self-explanatory- the bigger the rune, the bigger and wider the effect. However, the method and material used dictated the certain effect the rune will have, as one rune might hold many meanings, and interpretations, thus varying effects.

 I realize this might be too complex for a simpleton such as Yourself, dear student, yet things get even more convoluted, when one considers the aspect, of mixing various runes or creating runes via other runes.

 So feel free to rest your senses.

 The sheer amount of power one could wield...

 I dislocated my jaw just thinking about it. Apparently, I also made some strange noises, and Hilda hastened over to check up on me, yet I think she was merely jesting.

 After my epiphany, with a vigorous click of my jaw, I flipped through the Grimoire once more. From page to page, I saw solutions for my every wish. Paths I could take, runes I could exploit to achieve a level of Sorcer- Astral Arts only spoken within history books and tall tales.

 No... I could surpass them.

 In an age where a World Scar had been considered the mightiest boon a Sorcerer might covet, I, Sabinian, The Saint, have discovered what lies beneath such trivialities.

 Oh! How little The University knows or understands! Oh! How powerless they truly are, the ignorants! The fools!

 It took both of my failsafes to pull me away from my indulgence. However, it didn't take long for me to return to these covers.

 You see, even if I knew of the runic capabilities, I nary understood them.   I am Grand among the Grandest of this mortal plane, yet this knowledge came from the very fundamentals of our reality. Seems, even I can be humbled by the Cosmos.

 What I required was a companion- a mentor or partner of sorts. One with whom I could explore these ideas together. Arvel was too stupid and Hilda, as inquisitive as she was, held no power whatsoever.

 I do not know what drew me to inquire within the covers of the codex once more, yet the first page I was shown answered my plea with terrifying precision.

 I would summon an Astral Entity as my servant!

 This brings us to the first paragraph.

The materialization of the Entity in our realm required a sort of ''ritual'', where the specific runes had to be arranged in a circular fashion, with a massive rune in the middle. This central rune was quite specific as for the summoning to be successful the symbol must be drawn with ''life'' itself.

 Here I had to rack my brain a little, as there could have been many ways to interpret such a directive.

 I tried arranging plants in the specific formation. Even tried it with food and water- the sustenance of life. Once I ran out of ideas, I tried to arrange my own body in the correct shape. There came a moment, where I became so desperate I snapped my shins and forearms to achieve the proper shape, yet... Fruitless.

 A sudden epiphany struck, while I reconstructed my appendages, as Hilda descended the steps with a tray of my favored tea.