Cursed Odyssey

The sun bled orange across the horizon as torches sparked to life throughout the village. Woodland creatures stirred in the gathering dusk, their calls mixing with the crackle of flame.

Joseph wiped sweat from his brow, satisfaction warming him despite his exhaustion. The villagers had listened—truly listened—as he shared techniques that could transform their lives.

Crop rotation to preserve soil fertility. Simple irrigation channels for water efficiency. Natural fertilizers that would boost yields and ward off famine.

He'd kept the explanations simple, focusing on what they needed: which substances nourished plants, which ones killed them. Composting organic waste. Making the most of every resource.

The farming lessons were just the beginning. Joseph had spent hours with the blacksmiths, showing them how proper airflow—not just more coal—could revolutionize their forges. He'd tightened spindles, corrected flaws in their looms, fixed problems they'd lived with for years.

Unlike philosophy, science had correct answers, just as the laws of the universe, math, and calculus were not invented but rather discovered all the same. As humanity develops, they would no doubt reach the same conclusions, the same building blocks. This was no coincidence, but a simple law of the world and human nature.

As an academic, Joseph understood this more than anyone. It made him ponder on how the arcane affected these laws, and how it could be incorporated to modern science. And what layed outside with more advanced civilizations than this backwater village?

There still were many coincidences. For example, the ubiquitous use of the base 10 number system. Time being minutes and hours, as well as the 7 days of the week, and many others were arbitrarily chosen, and were not based in anything concrete.

Theories for another time. His stomach growled, cutting through his speculation.

"I hope there's some real food... finally… Maybe I should teach them how to make Beef Wellington?" he muttered, dreaming of anything other than salty soup.

But work came first. Always.

The library loomed before him after a long walk—a massive wooden structure second only to Luud's holy house in size. Weathered planks and intricate carvings spoke of generations of knowledge housed within.

Oh books, become my blade once more… Joseph smiled, breathing in the musty scent before pushing open the heavy door.

Dust motes danced in the dim entry hall where a lone Zott woman sat behind a reception desk. Her age was impossible to guess, but her sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Hmm?" The Zott glared beyond her papers.

"So you must be the outsider." She looked him up and down, expression shifting from confusion to recognition. "To think our first visitor in weeks doesn't belong here... But did you really have to come so late? I was just about to close."

Beyond the desk, rows of bookshelves stretched into shadows. Dust coated everything, and cobwebs lurked in the corners like a spiders' luxury villas.

"Hello, ma'am." Joseph bowed respectfully. "Am I allowed to be in here?" Nervous laughter escaped him.

"Knowledge doesn't discriminate, child. It's for everyone." The Zott woman smiled, her tail wagging subtly. "I've heard the leaders accepted your stay, so who am I to deny you?"

Joseph's eyes lit up with curiosity.

"But it does deny the poor!" Her laughter filled the dusty air. "This library has been my family's lifeblood for generations! Ten Lia to enter, and fees to borrow. You're lucky I'm not charging extra for an outsider!"

"That's no problem." Joseph pulled coins from a hidden pouch, earning a shocked stare from the librarian.

He was only accepted today! Her mind reeled.

"I'm interested in this village's history—how it came to be. Do you have books like that?" Joseph asked casually.

Her smile widened. "Of course! Such interest! But can you even read Sephirian?"

Joseph recognized the language name and scratched his head sheepishly. "To be honest, I don't... I was hoping for books with... pictures?"

"Don't be embarrassed! Reading is rare! Maybe you'll learn someday—you're missing out!"

"Don't tease me, miss. I'm trying my best!"

"Farthest left shelf, third divider set, fifth row. You'll find what you're looking for! Have fun!"

"Thank you." Another bow, then Joseph hurried off with his guard trailing behind.

"Make it quick! I have places to be!" the woman called after him, receiving no response. She sighed, massaging her temples. "What did I get myself into..."

Joseph weaved through towering shelves, musty paper scent filling his nostrils. The librarian's directions led to a dim corner where candlelight flickered. One thick volume caught his attention—its cover bore an embossed emblem showing a half-human, half-reptilian figure surrounded by interlocking circles and a sun symbol. Uneven pages poked out, promising illustrations.

He pulled it free with a dust-cloud cough, surprised by its weight. The guard peered over his shoulder as Joseph opened to the first page.

Alien symbols covered the paper—jagged, geometric characters interlaced like fighting branches. He recognized some patterns, possible numbers, but the script felt completely foreign.

Then he saw the illustration spanning two pages.

Boundless white fog separated two floating islands. On one, tiny human figures worked: cutting trees, tilling soil, building homes by a river in lush forest. Children played carelessly in the water, laughter almost audible from the page.

The other island showed Zotts basking in sunlight, hunting wild animals, eating raw meat. Curiously, no Zott children appeared anywhere.

Joseph flipped through several text-heavy pages. "Can you help me read this?" he asked the guard with a smile.

"I'm illiterate."

Joseph's smile twitched before he focused back on finding the next illustration.

The fog between islands began constricting like a tornado until the landmasses crashed together.

War. Immediate, brutal war.

Orange and yellow paint splattered the page like flames. Zotts devoured humans and babies while humans slaughtered Zotts with weapons. One page showed humans whipping Zott prisoners like animals; the next revealed Zotts laughing around fires, eating human remains.

Image after image of atrocities—things Earth would call war crimes treated as commonplace. The artist held nothing back.

Two sentient but alien species meeting suddenly. Joseph nodded grimly. Same result as Earth's history books.

He turned the page expecting more gore, but instead found light.

Such colors... The page seemed to emit brilliance itself.

At the expanding light's center floated a black-cloaked figure with wings—half scaled, half feathered. The perfect contrast against the radiant background.

Luud's first appearance. They'd depicted the ancestor as a god descending to earth.

The following pages shifted completely. Even the illustrator's lines became softer, less chaotic, slowly regaining peace and order.

Luud spoke words both species understood. Ground shook, mountains split, and fighting ceased as all stared at his beauty.

Through subsequent illustrations, Luud taught them a common language—Sephirian. His peaceful teachings showed how humans and Zotts each possessed unique strengths, how they could coexist and learn together.

Zotts shared music, hunting techniques, and herbal medicine. Humans offered agriculture, woodworking, and proper construction.

Under Luud's command, humans freed all slaves while Zotts vowed never to eat human flesh. Many accepted the new peace, but some revolted—especially families who'd suffered most.

Grudges aren't easily forgotten.

Those rebels met swift ends. Illustrations showed transgressors going mad, brains exploding, drowning themselves, beating their heads against walls until skulls cracked. Threats to order faced public execution—burned alive or stabbed once by each villager, even family members proving their resolve against sinners.

Eventually, Luud vanished as suddenly as he'd come. His duty fulfilled.

Some villagers still worshipped him as a god. Others believed he was simply a wise half-breed tired of their feud. And then there were those who secretly despised everything he represented...

After all... grudges aren't easily forgotten.

Joseph slowly closed the book with a dust-filled cough, glancing at the drowsing guard with a smile. He wanted another book and his eyes swept the nearby shelves.

One volume caught his attention immediately—its cover depicted a massive leviathan-like creature with serpentine coils and razor teeth, emerging from churning earth. Unlike most other book in this forgotten corner, no dust coated its surface. The leather binding looked recently handled, as if someone had opened it recently.

Joseph smiled. Oh I wonder who else is doing research…

An expectant shout rang out.

"Okay boy! Time to leave!"

I'll be back tomorrow, then. He shrugged inwardly, returning the tome to its shelf.