The Elemental Page 8

  “Maybe we could just write down a few of the numbers on a separate sheet of paper and show him,” Miela suggested. “Bring it up that way?”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “When do you think you can meet with Neptune?” asked Elara. She knew Professor Neptune well. As a child, she watched Noiro host him as a guest at his cottage quite frequently. Professor Neptune was one of Noiro’s oldest friends, and an even older mentor. He was an ambitious man, and took every advantage he could get to advance his research studies. Ambition often clouded the Professor’s judgment, and it was not unusual for his research methods to err on the immoral side. In fact, most of his research methods were highly controversial. He was notorious for using human subjects in his experiments, and exposed many of his research subjects to terrible, horrific stimuli, all in the name of science.

  Professor Neptune was a powerful man. He certainly faced many Guardians who were sent after him, yet he hardly ever emerged with anything more than a mere slap on the wrist. He was charismatic, well-liked, and well-connected, and was certainly no stranger to using his connections to get him out of several sticky situations.

  Elara was not fond of him.

  “Hmm,” Noiro thought, glancing at the window, “I’m supposed to meet with him this weekend to drop off some research logs. Perhaps we can pay him a visit then.”

  “We? Are we coming with you?” asked Elara, raising an eyebrow.

  Noiro nodded. “If you want to.”

  Elara bit her lip. She knew Professor Neptune frequented Noiro’s cottage, but it was seldom that she ever visited the Professor.

  But this wouldn’t be a regular visit. There was too much at stake. Try as they might, they couldn’t figure out the codes before them.

  They needed help.

  Elara’s eyes fell on Helia, who was still sprawled out on the ground, concentrating hard as she slowly scribbled onto a piece of paper. Noticing Elara’s gaze, the toddler looked up and grinned toothily at her mother. “Look, Mama! It’s us,” she said, beaming at Elara as she held up a slightly crumpled up paper.

  It was a messily-drawn picture of herself and Helia, sprawled out on a bed together and sleeping, like they were last night.

  Elara’s breath caught in her throat. Something stirred in her stomach as she looked at the toddler, who was so enamored by her. “It’s lovely,” she whispered, smiling softly at the toddler.

  Helia drew her attention back to the paper, carefully scrawling away again.

  How could she deny a potential lead in their search for answers? Especially if it meant sparing Helia from suffering the trauma she went through in the future… Elara turned her head back to Noiro.

  “Let’s go to Neptune.”

  “It’s cold,” Miela muttered, pulling her coat close against herself as they trekked down a long set of stony stairs. She squinted, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dimming light as they went further down the stairs, and away from the sunlight at the cave’s entrance.

  Argon muttered in agreement. The shift from the warm summer breeze into the cool, chilled air that blew through the cave’s entrance left him uncomfortably cold. He frowned, sighing deeply as he followed the group down the stairs.

  A lot weighed on his mind since the last time the group had met in Noiro’s cottage. Before all of this, he was just a carefree man, minding his own business and climbing his way up the ranks as a Guardian of Polaris. Until that moment, he could kid himself and tell himself that he didn’t really belong in this situation which he was dragged into, and that it was all a big mistake.

  But everything changed with Helia’s arrival in his life. Helia was his. And the test which Noiro ran proved it.

  Suddenly, everything was cemented in reality.

  He thought hard to himself, the fear beginning to churn his stomach as he thought back to all of the information that Elara, Noiro, and Miela pushed onto him. Terrible thoughts about how the future would turn out. Argon closed his eyes.

  He was still processing the news of becoming a father overnight. He was still getting used to working so closely alongside people he disliked for most of his life. He wondered how his father might have reacted to the news of his son partnering up with his old arch nemesis, had he still been alive. Argon looked up, watching the back of Noiro’s head as they trudged down the endless flight of stairs into the inky darkness below.

  “I told you it would be cold,” Noiro’s voice drifted to Argon’s ears, pulling him out of his thoughts. Noiro confidently led the way, feeling perfectly comfortable in his thick cloak. “It’s always cooler underground.”

  Noiro knew each and every step that was carved into the deep stone caverns, having made many a trip down into the Old Archive—his first one being a tour with his father when he was just a boy. His father would often bring Noiro along with him to many important meetings held amongst other prominent Scholars. Unlike other children, who would have moaned and groaned about spending time listening to old men chatter away about theories and scholarly research, Noiro thrived on it. As a young boy, he’d often sit quietly in the corner, a small notebook in hand as he jotted down notes. As he grew older, he began to venture down on his own, often making the long trip from his hometown to the Old Archive in hopes of gaining his own recognition and credibility, and perhaps one day being accepted as a Scholar himself.

  Noiro turned into a tunneled pathway, lit by small lanterns which hung from either side of the walls, and to a large, iron door. He pulled a large brass key from his pocket, turning the lock with a series of loud clicks and clacks, and finally pushed the heavy door open.

  Elara watched in amusement as Miela and Argon gaped at the wondrous halls of the Old Archive. The walls were lined with marble bookshelves, each holding a massive spread of tomes. The books’ spines glittered under the warm light of the antique crystal chandeliers, each with engravings that detailed its land’s origins. The ceiling was inscribed with calligraphy written in the world’s different languages, all weaving together to form an intricate geometric pattern, crisscrossing its way across the vast stony structure. The air was calm, with a few groups of scholars wandering about, idly chatting away.

  “This way,” said Noiro, ignoring his fellow group members’ awe as he walked smartly across the magnificent floors, leading them towards a set of doors at lined up at the side of the hall. He knocked on the door in the middle, waited a few seconds, and then pushed the door open.

  Inside was a cozy office, with a hand-woven carpet lining the floor depicting the night sky and its constellations. A sturdy mahogany desk stood at the head of the room, and a handful of soft leather chairs arranged in a semicircle to face the desk. A celestial dial sat in one corner of the office, the gears inside the dial softly whirring away as it showed the planetary movement patterns.

  “Take a seat,” Noiro offered, closing the door behind them. “I’m sure Professor Neptune will be here any moment.”

  The group followed his instructions, each taking a seat on one of the chairs.

  “Why is the Old Archive underground in this dingy cave, instead of up at the Grand Library in the castle grounds?” Miela asked, settling uncomfortably into her seat. She gazed up at the different instruments, each of which was carefully perched on different shelves and cabinets. She had never seen such apparatuses before; some were colorful dials with smooth, fluid movements, while others were mechanical, rigid, and dull. She could hear a distant ticking noise from somewhere in the room. She wondered if some of these instruments were of the Professor’s own inventions.

  “The most important rule in the scholarly world is to protect knowledge,” answered Noiro, settling into his seat beside Miela.

  “So what’s the library in the castle grounds for, then?” asked Argon pointedly. “Isn’t the Grand Library one of the most extensive libraries? And the most protected, with it being located within the grounds of Polaris Castle.”

  “The Grand Library is one of the most extensive libraries,” Noiro p
ointed out, smiling. “But the Old Archive down here has every single book and tome ever produced in recorded history. Some of them are so old that the outside temperature and moisture could damage the books kept in here.” Noiro gestured at the books lining the countless shelves. “There are books in here that survived wars, genocides, and the extinction of several civilizations. Priceless pieces of information and knowledge that would’ve otherwise been lost, had it not been protected and hidden away in within these walls.”

  “Wars?” Elara folded her arms curiously. “Why would books be affected by war?”

  Noiro leaned back in his chair. “If you think about it, wouldn’t you agree that knowledge is one of the pillars that supports a thriving civilization?” He looked at the stack of books lying on the desk in front of them. “With knowledge comes power. With knowledge, you have doctors, engineers, teachers, artists, scientists… You take that knowledge away, then you take that power away.”

  “Targeting scholars, libraries, and schools is a common tactical move in the military to bring a civilization down to its knees,” Miela added, her voice hard. As a seasoned Guardian, she was well-versed in calculated attacks against civilizations. “Destroying knowledge rips away the identity and strength of its beholder. Languages have been lost that way. Technology. Culture. Progression. By targeting scholars, you can set back an entire civilization hundreds of years. By erasing knowledge, you can ultimately erase that civilization. It’s an awful tactic, but an effective one.”

  “It’s been done before?” Elara asked, horrified.

  A deep voice chuckled from behind them. “Thousands of times.”

  The group turned around, startled at the unfamiliar voice that intruded on their conversation. An older man stood at the doorway, his dark, thick hair curled ever so slightly around his forehead and over his small eyes. He was wearing a set of deep velvet robes of that draped across his shoulders. A heavy brass chain hung around his shoulders and draped across his torso, with a heavy metal plate resting in the center of his chest emblazoned with the emblem of Polaris: the constellation of Polaris, encased by two crescent moons facing opposite each other.

  “Professor Neptune,” Elara began, her eyes wide as she stared at the man who stood confidentially in the doorway.

  The man strode in, his small, beady eyes twinkling as he took a seat at his desk.

  “Have you heard of the House of Wisdom?” the Professor asked. He continued before the group even had a chance to open their mouths to respond: “It was one of the world’s most magnificent libraries during its time. Located in the heart of ancient Babylon, it was the city’s own Grand Library. Think of it as an ancient predecessor of the Grand Library of Polaris.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “It was destroyed,” Professor Neptune answered simply. “You see, the House of Wisdom wasn’t just a library. It was a center of knowledge. It had a society of scientists, academics, translators, researchers, poets, alchemists, astronomers… They hailed from all over the ancient empires, overcoming and rising above political differences to form a society of knowledge. They worked together to preserve knowledge.

  “Babylon was the center of knowledge and wisdom in its era,” Neptune continued. “It was what made them one of the most powerful and strategic civilizations at that time. People travelled from all over to seek the highest quality of education. They even had translated works from ancient scholars: Pythagaros, Plato, Aristotle, Apollonius, Archimedes, Euclid, Ptolemy and many more. It was a scholarly haven.

  “Unfortunately, that is what made the House of Wisdom the perfect target to take down Babylon. The library was destroyed, and all of the books and records, all of which were so meticulously preserved and recorded, were destroyed. The fall of Babylon was cemented when those books were heaved in into rivers, and its scholars ruthlessly slaughtered. The waters of Babylon ran black with ink, and its soil stained deep with blood.”

  “That’s horrible,” uttered Miela.

  “Not all was lost,” said Professor Neptune, lifting a finger in the air. “Miraculously, some of those tomes survived. In fact, we have the surviving records stored here, right in this very cavern.”

  The Professor gestured at the walls around him. “History is unkind, and has a tendency to repeat itself. Polaris learned from the plight of Babylon, as well as previous civilizations before them,” he said. “The founders of the Old Archive vowed to take every precaution to protect knowledge. Yes, we have the Grand Library of Polaris, and yes, it’s protected by the castle guards, and the entire force of the Guardians of Polaris. But as we know, castles, cities, and civilizations eventually fall.

  “That is why we keep the very root of our knowledge, our city’s wealth, our source of prosperity, hidden away within these walls. Hidden away within the bowels of the Earth, safe from harm.” The Professor stretched his mouth into a small smile as he looked at his captivated audience. “Any questions?”

  PROFESSOR NEPTUNE

  “Neptune!” Noiro got up to his feet to greet his mentor. Elara watched as the men embraced each other affectionately, chuckling lightly as they did so. She smiled at Neptune.

  “Do you have what I asked for?” Neptune grinned at Noiro.

  Noiro nodded, pulling out an envelope from his coat.

  The Professor sifted through its contents, rifling his fingers through a stack of old, withered papers, humming in satisfaction. “Perfect.” He beamed at Noiro. “This will help a lot.”

  He turned his attention to the group, his eyes briefly pausing when he noticed the small tattoo on Miela and Argon’s wrists peeking out from beneath their sleeves; their Guardian’s mark. He seemed slightly wary at the sight of Miela and Argon, but said nothing of it.

  “You’ve brought guests,” said Professor Neptune, smiling at the group. His smile did not quite reach his eyes, and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Noiro.

  “Yes.” Noiro cleared his throat. “We were hoping you could help us.”

  “Oh?” Professor Neptune’s interest was piqued. “The great Noiro needs my help?”

  Elara was not quite sure if she detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Or perhaps, disdain? There were certainly many scholars who were envious of Noiro’s proximity to the Royal Family, and it was no secret that there were many who believed he was undeserving of the privileges the Royal Family afforded him.

  Noiro, oblivious to the Professor’s tone, pulled out another envelope from his coat and slipped out a few sheets of paper. On each sheet was a jumble of numbers scrawled onto it that he had copied down from the journal earlier. He hadn’t bothered to make a copy of each page; rather, he and Elara figured that having a few pages for Neptune to look over could give enough insight to point them in the right direction. “We were wondering if these numbers meant anything to you,” he said slowly, handing the papers over to him.

  Elara watched Neptune’s face for any reaction, and felt a small knot in her stomach as she saw Neptune’s face darken in concentration as he studied the papers.

  “Where did you find these?” asked Neptune casually, turning over one of the sheets to look at the numbers.

  “Er—in an old book,” Noiro uttered quickly. “A personal side project, really.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Neptune hummed, tapping a finger to his chin. He took out a scroll from his desk, and began scribbling down the sequence of numbers. Elara felt uncomfortable at the thought of there being another copy of the codes.

  She could feel Noiro tense up beside her as they watched Professor Neptune scrawl out more of the codes onto his own scroll.

  “What are you doing?” Miela asked loudly, her voice echoing Elara’s uneasiness.

  “Hmm? Oh, I was trying to move the numbers around. Maybe they’re a part of an equation,” said Neptune, thinking aloud.

  Noiro nodded. “That’s the same conclusion we came to. But we’re stuck.”

  Neptune hummed to himself, and then began to write down the sequence of numbers again. He pa
used, murmuring victoriously to himself, and then looked up at Noiro.

  “Did you figure it out?” asked Noiro eagerly. He definitely caught the shift in his old friend’s demeanor.

  “Have you considered Pi?” Neptune tilted his head, his eyes twinkling as he glanced up at the curious entourage before him.

  “Pie?” Miela repeated, befuddled. “Why would we consider pie?”

  “Not pie. Although, it’s never a bad time to think about pie.” The Professor chuckled. “I meant Pi. Mathematical Pi.”

  “No, not more math,” Miela groaned.

  “Pi is more than just math, and it’s more than just diagrams of circles. You have to look deeper,” said Neptune knowingly. “Pi opens up the world to an endless realm of possibilities. Its numbers are endless. It’s all encompassing; it has every single number arranged in every combination imaginable. You”—Neptune pointed at Argon, who was closely examining an apparatus in the corner of his office, fascinated.

  He snapped his head towards Neptune.

  “Yes. You. Pick a sequence of five numbers,” said Neptune.

  Argon looked displeased at being involved with more mathematics and reluctantly replied, “one, two, three, four, five.”

  “That specific sequence of numbers occurs twice in Pi.” Neptune smiled. “In fact, that string occurs over two thousand times in the first two hundred million digits of Pi.”

  Argon remained stoic, seemingly unimpressed.

  Neptune narrowed his eyes at Argon, displeased at his lack of enthusiasm. “Another example, let’s say we wanted to search for the year we’re in now, 9377. That would be close to the three thousandth position in Pi,” he said, watching Argon turn his attention back to him. “Or look at five years from now, 9382. That would be close to the four thousandth position of Pi.”

  The group simultaneously took a sharp breath at Neptune’s choice of words. 9382. The year Polaris was destroyed.

  Noiro looked deep in thought, an inkling of realization dawning on his face.