Chapter 45: The First Axul

  Christian’s workshop was a modest room. It had three different bookcases lining the walls, overflowing with books, most of which were about history. At one end of the room was a table - mostly empty - while two couches occupied the opposite side. Christian had been sitting on one of them when I arrived.

  “So, what do you want to know?” he asked as he closed the door behind us, gesturing for me to take a seat on the left couch.

  I hesitated for a moment, realizing just how little I knew about the Axul. Beyond the basic information everyone knew – and the shocking revelation that they still existed and that Aric Kelltins, of all people, was the last of them, and had worshipped Erebus – I had nothing.

  “Honestly? Everything you can tell me about them before I need to leave.” I replied. “Don't leave out anything.”

  Christian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Let’s see…where to begin, where to begin…Oh, I know. Let’s start a bit before the Axul.”

  “Before the Axul?” I asked cautiously. Wasn’t that kind of missing the point of this conversation?

  Christian nodded. “Yes. Not before-before, but more like before the word Axul became part of our lexicon.” He paused, cleared his throat, and continued. “Before the Axul – and I’m talking about at least fifteen centuries ago – our world was vastly different from what it is today. We still used spears and swords to kill each other, that didn’t change of course, but we also relied solely on animals to plow fields and on our physical strength for most manual labor. The System, or rather the concept of magic as a whole, simply didn’t exist.”

  He paused briefly, making sure I was following.

  Sa far so good. I knew this as well. I gestured for him to continue.

  “Then, right here in our kingdom, there appeared a man by the name of Spurius Axul. Now, we don’t know much about him since many of the scrolls and inscribed stone tablets from that time were destroyed during the six Great Wars of the past thousand years or purposefully disposed off by the king's royal historians - that's why no one gets taught much about the Axul in schools. But from the fragments we’ve preserved, Spurius presented himself as a traveler – someone who supposedly wanted to introduce people to what he called ‘The Gift of Magic’. Today, despite not knowing where he'd come from, most historians refer to Spurius as the first Axul.”

  I shook my head. “So, you’re telling me that in our world – a world that once had no magic – someone suddenly appeared who could use it? How? Where did he get it? How did he even explain what it was to people who had never even seen it before?” I paused for a moment as another question crossed my mind. “More importantly, why didn’t they just kill him out of fear?”

  Christian grinned wider than I’d ever seen in the two years I’d known him. “Those are all great questions, Aidan. If someone could sit Spurius down for an interview, maybe we’d have some answers. But as far as we know, he refused to reveal anything about his past or how he obtained his so-called magic. And if he ever did reveal anything - which I highly doubt - it was lost.

  “As for your other questions, oh, there were definitely attempts on his life. Many believed he was defying the gods by wielding powers only the divine should have. But of course, those attempts failed – he was stronger than entire armies. Thankfully, and to everyone’s relief, he wasn’t out to conquer kingdoms. Instead, he used his powers to help, or rather impress. He healed the sick, brought rain to the driest lands, and even rebuilt our royal castle - all with a few flicks of his wrist.”

  The words sank in. The King’s palace was built by the first mage – an Axul, no less…

  Christian continued. “By then, Spurius was revered by most. People begged him to fulfill his early promises and teach them his ways – even the King hoped to learn magic, believing it would give Tepan the edge over our neighbors. And Spurius agreed, but there was a catch.”

  “What kind of catch?”

  Christian chuckled. “That’s the wild part. You see, Spurius claimed it was impossible to teach magic to someone who didn’t already have it. Instead, he proposed an alternative: to father children with the women of the kingdom, as many as possible, ensuring that his descendants – the future generations of Tepan – would inherit his gift.”

  “Well, that’s disgusting.” I muttered, my stomach twisting at the idea. “And let me guess, those who agreed to his offer became part of his family – part of the Axul?”

  “Exactly.” Christian nodded. “That’s when the illusion shattered for most people. Some were willing, even eager, but the majority saw right through him. They called him a liar for promising one thing and then offering something completely different. Supported by the king, they shunned Spurius and his followers, casting them out as pariahs.”

  “And fearful of his capabilities, the kingdom allowed the newly formed Axul to live in solitude?”

  Christian nodded again. “Well, there wasn’t much they could do about Spurius, really. He was a constant source of worry for the kingdom. They assumed he’d die eventually, and then they’d deal with his clan – or sect, or whatever you want to call it. But the bastard was said to have lived for centuries.

  “And his descendants? Supposedly, they were even stronger than him. They lived in their secluded villages, following their own religion – a twisted version of the more common faiths of the time. But they didn’t show any hostility toward regular humans. On the contrary, they often offered their magical services and helped on numerous occasions. Building many wonders around the kingdom.”

  “Why would they do that?” I asked, confused by the idea. The kingdom rejected them, and they still wanted to help…?

  Christian shrugged. “Their motives remain unclear to this day. But if I had to guess, I’d say they were looking to bring more people into their community. Not as equals – they were said to be far too prideful for that – but as something lesser. Not exactly slaves, but likely something close to that.”

  I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, trying to place one of the most important events in humanity’s history on the chronological scale. ”How long after his appearance did the rest of the world get their magic - the Core System?”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  ”Around four centuries later.”

  ”But that’s - “

  ”Really close to when the Axul vanished?” Christian cut me off. “Yup. About fifty years apart - give or take.”

  I recalled how Lysandra referred to the System in the memory fragment - she clearly wasn’t happy about its appearance.

  Insightful, but not immediately helpful for my mission. I needed to steer the conversation toward what I wanted to learn, carefully. Christian might be a history nerd, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t catch on my sudden interest in the Axul and press me for an explanation – something I couldn’t give him.

  “You mentioned their religion.” I said slowly. “A twisted version of common faiths. What can you tell me about it?”

  “Ah, yes.” Christian nodded, jumping from his seat. He approached the nearest bookcase and began scanning the shelves. “Where did I put it…” he muttered, running his finger along the spines until he stopped. “There it is!”

  He pulled out a thick, red hardcover book and flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. He handed me the open book and pointed to a passage. “These were the dominant faiths of that era, listed in no particular order. Go through a few of them to get a feel.”

  I glanced down at the page and began reading.

  The Pantheon of Solus – A polytheistic faith that revolves around a pantheon of divine beings, each governing different aspects of life – no matter small or large. The number of gods is countless, yet the primary one is Solus, the God of the Sun and Sky, revered as the bringer of light and order. His opposite is…

  There was more written about it, but I decided to stop.

  Interesting…It seemed a bit out of place for our current era, which probably explained why I’d never even heard about it.

  I moved on to the next entry.

  The Pantheon of the Eternal Creator – A monotheistic faith that centers on the belief in a single divine Creator, responsible for all existence. Followers view the Creator as omnipotent, omniscient, and eternal, existing beyond the constraints of time and space. The faith teaches…

  This one was familiar – it still existed today as the dominant religion in most of the world.

  The words time and space made me think about Chronos…could he be the Creator?

  I continued to the next entry. “The Pantheon of the Destroyer.”

  A chill ran down my spine, and Déjà vu rang in my mind.

  Erebus.

  "Death worshipping with some extra steps.” Christian muttered.

  I read the entry.

  The Pantheon of the Destroyer – A monotheistic faith following a being called The Destroyer, believed to be the ultimate force overseeing the delicate balance of existence. Worshippers view the Destroyer as a necessary presence responsible for the cyclical nature of life and renewal. According to their doctrine, all things in the world – from the smallest insect to the mightiest star – have a finite existence. The Destroyer is the hand that ends the old, paving the way for the new.

  The chill deepened with each word. The similarities between their doctrine and the memory fragment of Lysandra were uncanny. She had spoken of keeping the balance to the lower-circle priestess.

  Yet, there were critical differences. Both Lysandra and the priestess had clearly referred to the Creator as one of the gods they served. That didn’t explain Lysandra’s sudden allegiance with Erebus…

  “The Axul,” I said abruptly, snapping out of my thoughts. “What did they believe in?”

  Christian smiled. “As I said, it was a twisted version of common faiths. But more than that, if we’re citing the common belief, their whole religion was a ruse. There wasn’t a true religion to begin with – Spurius Axul made it all up to create his own small nation.”

  I blinked, struggling to accept his words. “Maybe he did, but that doesn’t explain the fact that he was the first to use magic, Christian. Surely there had to be something divine in that.”

  Christian nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe there was, maybe there wasn’t. We’ll likely never know. Either way, to answer your question: the Axul believed in everything. Every single faith mentioned in that book was, to some degree, part of their religion.

  “They worshipped the Creator and the Destroyer as their primary gods, but they also believed in numerous minor deities who oversaw different aspects of their lives. It was eclectic, almost nonsensical system that defied any sense and left both the theologians of their time and ours scratching their heads. Unless you were an Axul - then it made perfect sense. Probably.”

  Thinking about Lysandra’s memory fragment again, I pressed further. “Could it be that they suddenly decided to shift their beliefs to supporting the Destroyer alone?”

  Christian shrugged at the suggestion. “They could have. Like I said, it was a nonsensical belief, created by a powerful and charismatic madman. If he’d told them the sun represented the night and the moon symbolized the morning, they would’ve believed him!”

  Well…Spurius Axul might not have existed by the time of that memory fragment. But if the High Priestess used her influence to manipulate their beliefs, it wasn’t too far-fetched to think she could have led them to do whatever she deemed worthy – even unknowingly siding with the embodiment of Darkness.

  “What was their hierarchy?” I asked, curious. “How high would someone like a priest rank?”

  Christian looked at me thoughtfully, his usual neutral expression returning. “Honestly, I’m glad you’re so interested, but…what’s the deal, Aidan?”

  I coughed lightly. “No deal. I’m just really curious.”

  Christian eyed me silently, clearly suspicious, before letting out a sigh. “The Axul had a rigid societal structure where every member had a role to fulfill. Whether it was physical labor, crafting, agriculture, or even teaching, every individual contributed to their community.

  “Over generations, they maintained the ‘purity’ of their bloodline by intermarrying exclusively within their own people. Yes, they were all relatives, as every single one of them descended from Spurius Axul, but that didn’t stop them or affect them genetically – perhaps because of magic.

  “As time passed, all of them were able to wield magic. Every member of their society, no matter their role, used magic to improve their lives and tasks. For example, farmers enhanced crop growth, builders magically reinforced structures, and even teachers used magic to pass on knowledge more efficiently.

  “At the top of the hierarchy were the Priestesses. They were always female and divided into three circles, with the third circle being the lowest. At the very top of the hierarchy stood the High Priestess, who served as the leader of the entire Axul community after Spurius' death. This individual held ultimate authority, acting as both spiritual and practical guide. Their word was absolute.”

  The pieces began to fit together, and my earlier assumptions felt more logical now. But one question still lingered.

  “The way you described them, they seem so organized, and with the power of magic, far more advanced than the rest of the world.” I said. “So how the fuck did they just vanish?”

  Christian chuckled. “A great question, Aidan. The truth is, no one really knows.”

  I pressed further. “Any guesses?”

  Christian sighed, leaning back in his seat. “There are theories, of course. Some say they used their magic to vanish entirely, retreating to some hidden realm or dimension. Others suggest they dispersed, blending in with the rest of the world.”

  “What do you believe?” I asked, trusting him more than anyone else on the subject.

  Christian’s gaze met mine, and a smile spread across his face. “Me? I think they were planning something big.”

  “Something big?”

  He nodded. “Think about it, Aidan. There were no more than a thousand of them before they vanished. And before that happened, they suddenly decided to build this giant tomb that goes thirty-five levels deep and could likely contain all of them. Why?” He paused briefly, not really waiting for an answer. “I do believe they died. But I don’t think that place was ever actually intended to be a tomb. I think they were meddling with forces beyond our comprehension. And maybe – just maybe – dying was always part of their plan – a plan that could still be in motion to this day, inside that so-called tomb. I think that place was cursed long before Gaelith was brought there.”