He was sure after the second time, but he only admitted after the third.
It was his mark. Plain as day.
Now he wanted more than ever to know what these characters said. But who could he ask?
If Manes couldn't read it, then who could?
There was probably no one in the entire kingdom who could. Manes belonged to an organisation whose entire purpose was to guard this particular book, to preserve this particular piece of history, and even he couldn't decipher it.
So what happened now?
"Maybe ask her."
"Ask who?"
"The devil. You can commune with her, yes?"
Cassian didn't like how calm Manes was when he called Dea the devil. He spoke of the name as though it were nothing, as though merely mentioning her name wasn't a crime punishable by death back in Norrath.
But that was another thing Cassian had noticed about this place.
The people here didn't seem to care as much about Korvus and his wrath.
"I'll see if I can."
Cassian turned his attention inward.
"Well? You heard the old man. Do you know this language?"
There was no response.
Not a word. Not a sound.
Materdea had been strangely quiet since the revelation. Cassian could understand why. If he had discovered that four hundred years of his life had simply been taken from him, he doubted he'd be eager to speak either.
"She needs more time," he said to Manes.
"Sure she does. But you'd best tell her to be quick. You don't have much time left."
Cassian frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
Manes didn't answer. He simply turned and walked away.
Cassian watched him go.
He said that as though it wasn't obvious that Cassian didn't have much time left. That was why he was here in the first place. He needed to become stronger, and he'd come all the way out here hoping to find something that could help him.
And now he'd found something.
Even if he couldn't read it.
He just had to believe it was useful.
It had to be.
He had no other plan.
Cassian opened the book again.
He couldn't understand the writing, but there were pictures scattered throughout the pages. Drawings. Diagrams. Things he couldn't make sense of.
Cassian turned the page.
There were seven of them.
Seven different drawings. Seven different marks.
And he couldn't recognise a single one.
Cassian prided himself on his knowledge of theory. He'd studied marks extensively. He'd seen almost every variation they could take, every strange configuration and mutation.
But these were different.
Nothing like anything he'd ever seen before.
His curiosity deepened.
Now he wanted to know what this book was about. What these marks were. Why they had been important enough to preserve for four hundred years.
It had to be more than just better abilities and superior control of divine energy.
There had to be something else.
"Dea."
He tried calling her again.
Still nothing.
Whatever she was doing, she was taking her time.
"Listen, Dea. If you can hear me, I know what happened to you was terrible. But I think you've had enough time to sulk."
Silence.
Cassian waited.
"So just talk to me. Tell me what this book is about."
Nothing.
He sighed.
He felt stranded. Quite literally.
He lowered himself onto one of the wooden chairs scattered around the old man's house, but he couldn't settle. He couldn't feel calm. He couldn't afford to be patient.
With every passing second, the Archon's men were getting closer.
And fast.
There was nothing he could do about it.
He needed to understand what this book said, and he needed to understand it quickly. Otherwise, he'd remain powerless—just as powerless as he'd always been when the Archon inevitably found him.
"Still nothing, boy?" Manes asked.
"She's taking her time."
"Damned right she is. Maybe you should try deciphering it yourself."
Cassian laughed.
As if that were possible.
He would have to decipher an entire language. Figure out what every symbol and word meant, understand its sentence structure, its grammar, its rules—all before the Archon found him.
That could take years.
Maybe a lifetime.
He needed to understand this language now. He needed to know whether the book could actually help him or whether he'd wasted his time coming here.
"I'll just have to wait for Dea."
Later that night, Manes approached him again.
"What are your plans?" he asked.
"What plans?"
"What do you intend to do?"
Cassian didn't hesitate.
"I want to burn down the temple and kill the Archon."
Manes paused.
Then he laughed.
It was a disgusting sound.
"You? Kill the Archon?"
He looked Cassian up and down.
"Boy, you don't stand a chance against a farmhand, let alone the Archon's guards."
Cassian only smiled.
When Manes put it that way, his plan did sound ridiculous.
"So what are you suggesting?"
"That I teach you swordsmanship."
Now it was Cassian's turn to laugh.
"You said it yourself. You couldn't beat a sick dog. So what exactly could you teach me?"
"How to hold a weapon, for one."
Manes pointed toward the machete.
"You were holding that thing like a goddamn amateur. Anyone with eyes could see that. And in a world of fists and blood, mistakes like that are what get you killed."
He paused.
"That, and being stupid or reckless."
Cassian raised an eyebrow.
"Ha. I appreciate the offer, old man, but I can't stay here. All I want is to understand this mark. Learning swordsmanship isn't part of my plans."
"You ought to add it to your plans."
The familiar voice suddenly spoke inside his head.
"It could prove useful."
Cassian smiled.
"Look who finally decided to stop sulking."
"Do you—"
"Of course I do."
She didn't let him finish.
"I gave them that book. So obviously I know the tongue."
Cassian blinked.
"I was going to ask if you felt better, but sure. Let's talk about the book."
"I am a being of superior standing. Of course I'm fine."
Cassian stared ahead.
She was as smug as ever, as though she hadn't just received probably the biggest shock she'd experienced in centuries.
Apparently, whatever grief she'd been drowning in had passed.
Or perhaps she simply refused to let him see it.
"So you gave them the book?"
"I did."
"Why?"
A pause.
Cassian waited.
"Because they asked."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"It answers it perfectly."
Cassian sighed.
"Dea."
"What?"
"What's in this book?"
She was silent for a moment.
Then her voice came again.
"Everything they knew about the Seven."
Cassian looked down at the book.
"The Seven marks?"
"Yes."
"You said they were different from the marks people use now."
"They were."
"How?"
Another pause.
"They weren't simply stronger."
Cassian's eyes narrowed.
"Then what were they?"
Materdea didn't answer immediately.
For the first time since she'd begun speaking again, there was something different in her voice.
Not anger.
Not sadness.
Something closer to caution.
"You should learn to use a sword first."
Cassian frowned.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything."
And then she fell silent again.
Cassian stared at the book in his hands.
For a moment, he wondered if she was going to start sulking again.
Manes was watching him from across the room.
The old man raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
Cassian closed the book.
"I think I'm going to take you up on that swordsmanship lesson."
Manes smiled.
"Good."