Chapter 5: Chapter 4- Nightmares

Barely even a week after my father left the household, news of my official succession to the dukedom had already reached the capital.

Considering that Aisha is most likely in the city of Doloras as of right now… she would most likely be returning in about one month.

By then, I’ll have to tidy up Havern and change the people’s opinions of me before she can return and claim my position after hearing the people’s cries.

What awaits me from this point on is an overwhelming responsibility.

And…

Sitting at my desk, I glanced over at a thick black book that sat in the right corner opposite of me.

That thing.

That mysterious book.

As much as I didn't want to, I decided that this object was more significant than I initially thought.

If the family had any magicians they could call on, then this issue would be quite easier to solve. However, every magician we employed left shortly after the Grimms’ downfall, leaving us with no support in the magicians’ society.

Our family once had a household magician, in which a magician would swear fealty under a contract– however that man has been long gone ever since father had insisted that he cut ties with us to save his reputation amongst other magicians.

Could we even afford a family magician at this point? We’re only at the level where we can afford to hire one B-rank magician or two C-ranks, but that’s only if I’m able to revive the state of the dukedom by merely 20%.

There’s also the possibility of asking my sister to bring along a talented magician on her way home, but… I doubt anyone would willingly help the Grimm family without a price.

The family’s biggest problem is reputation, funds, and resources.

If we had access to even one, then it would be easy to solve the other two.

The day father left, only one page had been translated. After that, I decided not to read it for the time being. 

However, curiosity got the better of me. I hastily decided to check the book only to find four more pages translated.

Furthermore, it seemed the book was about the memoirs of Arsene and Alain, each identified by their differing handwriting. However, as I delved deeper, I noticed there was a considerable pause between the pages. 

Once the writing picked back up again I noticed that there was only one type of handwriting rather than the usual two different kinds. I could only infer that the cause of this must have been Alain’s death. 

I also noticed that the writing had become sloppier and less refined, which I can only guess that it goes to show how badly Alain’s death affected Arsene.

What was the puzzling part was why the book was written like this. A book full of mere thoughts and monologues wouldn’t reveal anything but what those two were thinking back then.

If the book had spells, then that would be impossible since all of the brothers’ magic had been studied and recorded long ago.

Or maybe controversial information that would prove the Grimms eligible to be stripped of their status?

What’s just as strange is when I’m in the presence of it.

When I look at it, I gain a feeling– no, a need. As if I’ve become addicted to a drug, and require more.

But it is also a need for fulfillment. As if I’m lacking something that I’m unaware of.

By the hour, I get the ever-increasing feeling that something ominous will happen.

And it hasn’t stopped yet. Right now, I’m summing all of it up to the effect of the stress of handling the dukedom.

I truly hope that’s all it is.

***

My worries only worsen, my eyes deceive me with strange illusions. I find myself sleepwalking almost every night, and my butler has to get out of bed just to wake me from my trance.

Strangely, I always find myself close to the basement. I wonder if it’s merely coincidental, or something more.

I decided to lock the book away, and I swear I did– but every morning I find it on the corner of my desk as if I did not.

I did my best to ignore it, however, my symptoms only worsened. At that point, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

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With an experiment, I would finally solve my illness.

It was simple: when I sleepwalk, I won’t have the butler wake me up, but instead, let me reach my destination. In advance, I had him leave the basement door open.

There’s a reason my mind is subconsciously attracted to the basement– and I’m going to find out why.

Later that night, my plan went as I had prepared. 

Unconsciously to me, I walked straight out of my room as the butler watched over me. He continued to monitor my movements until I arrived in the basement.

The moment I walked down the full flight of stairs and stepped onto the cold stone floor, I felt a chill.

It was as if a cold wave of water washed over me.

My feet lay still, trembling. This wasn’t merely a sense– this was a presence.

An ominous presence increasingly became louder and louder, inching toward my position.

All happening within my dormant state, an air of dread breezed past me– a warning, a premonition of death, maybe even worse.

I had broken into a sweat, I wasn’t alone in this abyss, or rather, I wasn’t the only entity. Its aura began to envelop me as more and more terror filled my lungs, the atmosphere grasping my neck.

If this was merely a warning then I’m deathly afraid to discover what the consequences were.

In most cases, one would flee from this situation.

However– results are never achieved without experimentation and risk, as well as a tad of curiosity.

Against the wishes of common logic, I steered myself toward the presence. 

What in reality was merely a few steps– for me was a long nervous walk toward my likely end.

I felt like I was about to be drowned or suffocated every second it took just to travel to the opposite wall.

From a visual standpoint, it was just a regular basement– but if you were in my situation, you’d be wishing for death. 

But then again if you were in this situation, that means you were just as crazy as me to put yourself here.

The darkness was trying to swallow me whole, but fortunately, I wasn’t weak.

Forcing myself to endure, I reached out to an empty shelf

Instinctively, I pushed the shelves to the side and found a wall of wood so thin, you could tell there had to be something behind it.

With that in mind, I pounded on the wall desperately until I bore fruit, and lo and behold a hallway.

I stumbled through the lightless corridor until I reached a small underground study amid a large library.

All that was stationed on a desk at the end was a large six-sided black cage, with one small opening on each side in the shape of suns and moons.

The presence still felt dangerous, but now it also felt welcoming, inviting.

As if, it wanted me to open the cage.

And without a single thought of rationality, as if for one moment, I was taken over by curiosity– I desperately opened the cage.

However, what came out wasn’t an animal, but a cloud of darkness.

Another wave of inquisitive fear washed over me, and as my head filled itself with questions–

Hurriedly, intensely, and excitedly– the cloud stormed over my head and responded to all my thoughts with one sentence.

“Took you long enough! It’s time for your death!”

“Let’s get started…”

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