Page 207 of Interion

“When Kiara left Kaori’s room, she felt drawn to the basement and said she heard someone calling her. Zion found her sitting outside the patient’s door, and the archemic globe was blinking. When he questioned her, she seemed confused and said she’d heard a voice she recognized.”

A shiver ran through me from head to toe as I remembered the hallway and the apparition. Serguei and Zion noticed—they both straightened, looking... protective.

“She said she recognized the voice? But how is that possible? The soldier was in Yonser for over fifty years—there’s no way she could know him.”

— Another mystery without answers. And as you know, I love unraveling a mystery.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I still woke up terrified by memories of that day. When that happened, the darkness came alive around me, bringing back the glowing eyes and the icy touch. Serguei continued:

“The whole thing intrigued me enough to keep researching him. And this week, I found something really interesting.”

That piqued my curiosity.

“What exactly?”

He stood up and walked to the wall of books, then pulled out a large volume and returned to his seat, dropping it in front of me. I examined the white tome and realized it looked more like a diary than a book.

“‘Essay on Neurological Diseases, by Frederic Bounat.’” I read the title aloud and looked up at him, eyes wide. “What is this? I have the entire collection of these books, but they’re nothing like this one.”

“That’s because this was the draft of what would become the greatest encyclopedia of neurological medicine. Frederic Bounat was the elmedic who created the books, but before the collection came together, he kept a personal diary. He cataloged every type of disease he encountered in his 800-year career. However, some of them didn’t make it into the collection due to insufficient data, or because he’d only seen them once.”

There were no page numbers on the tome in my hands, but judging by its thickness and weight, it easily had two thousand pages. I flipped through a few and found a jumble of drawings and notes.

“Good heavens! Where did you find this?”

The book appeared to be an original; even the ink smudges Frederic had made remained intact. It must have cost a fortune.

“The only good part about being a pillar is that I have unlimited access to the royal library. There’s every kind of rare book there, and to make the search easier, I entered the librarian’s mind and sifted through her memories, since she’s required to read every item in the place. I found it in the neuropsychology section—it was incredibly easy.”

That book was a relic. I’d already devoured the entire collection, but this one was special in a way that made my heart race.

“Did you discover what kind of disease afflicted him? Has Frederic seen this kind of thing before?”

“Open the book where I left the bookmark and read.”

I did as he asked, and the first thing I saw was a symbol drawn in pencil. It was the same image engraved on the patient’s chest and on the cover of the Book of the Gods. My eyes scanned the few notes just below, and I read aloud so Zion could hear.

Disorder number 164: unknown neurological disease, etiology still unknown. Symptoms: deep coma without need for respiratory equipment. Stable vital signs. The patient is psychically blocked, and all attempts to contact his mind have failed. Family members reported that he went on a trip outside the city to collect medicinal plants and was found unconscious after a storm. They also reported that the man had no symbols tattooed on his body, so the image depicted above was made during his trip. The patient is under observation, but sixteen days have passed. We await a change in his condition.

The notes were interrupted by more drawings of symbols, and this time, he illustrated where the mark was located. Unlike our patient’s, this one was on the back. After the illustrations, there was one more note:

After thirty days, the patient woke up with no memory of what happened in the forest. Presents abnormal and violent behavior. Does not recognize family members. Physical health is good, but we need more data to understand how the disease affected his mind.

Another pause with more drawings. Finally, one last note:

Ten days after waking, the patient took part in a battle and died from an arrow wound to the heart. The study of this disease is hereby closed due to lack of information.

At the end was the man’s personal data. His name was written in a scrawl: Rosnir D’mit. I frowned at Serguei.

“Rosnir? The patient with the mark was Rosnir, the hero of the Great War?”

“That’s what it says! I was surprised too!”

“By the gods! So this is the second time this disease has appeared.”

“I believe so, because it’s the only report I found, but that leads me to another question. Are we really dealing with a disease?”

“According to the book, yes! The mark on his chest is the same as Rosnir’s.” I pointed to the sketch on the page, showing it to both men.