Carmion nodded quietly, his silver-streaked hair catching the dim light of the library's ancient chandeliers. He moved deliberately toward the heavy oak table, its surface scarred by countless years of study and ink. The chair creaked as he settled into it, the sound echoing softly in the cavernous room.
He gestured for Edmund to sit opposite him, the younger man obeying with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. Carmion's eyes, sharp and steady beneath bushy brows, fixed intently on Edmund as he prepared to deliver his lesson. The weight of centuries seemed to settle in the air like dust motes dancing in the fading light.
"According to the words of magicians who specialize in historical research," Carmion began, his voice calm and measured, "the universe was created by a great explosion. This explosion was the result of the death of the universe that preceded it, transforming into a fireball of infinite heat and mass."
He paused briefly, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "They called this process *Rebirth from Death*."
Edmund's eyes widened, but Carmion pressed on without hesitation. "Some specialists in history and mythology say that the death and rebirth of the universe is a cycle that has occurred many times before. This view arises from analyzing ancient myths mentioning outer gods with the power to manipulate galaxies and universes."
He smiled faintly, almost as if weighing the value of the stories themselves. "But these are just theories, based on interpretation and analysis. They are not complete facts. Many magicians and historians do not believe in them. Instead, they hold that the universe is in a cycle of life, immune to manipulation by these so-called gods."
Carmion's gaze softened slightly as he leaned forward. "It is my duty as a professor of history and mythology to present all points of view without interference or distortion. I offer you these perspectives without bias, even if I personally favor some over others."
He paused, fixing Edmund with a solemn look. "Remember this well. When you share information with others, you must remain neutral."
Sitting quietly nearby, Grievous observed the exchange with keen interest. The corners of his lips twitched in a faint smile.
'He's a really interesting person,' he thought. 'He carries the honor of a true historian, unwavering, unaffected by mood or whim.'
Grievous's eyes drifted to the towering shelves filled with dusty tomes. Everything Carmion had just explained was knowledge he already possessed, thanks to the memories of the original Grievous in this world. Yet, he remained still, listening patiently to the professor's calm, steady voice.
Carmion continued, "This world we inhabit is called the world of Nizmurir. It is what the ancient scholars refer to as an existential plane situated on the planet Zeflyq, within the Malgisa galaxy."
Edmund's brow furrowed, his curiosity piqued but his understanding incomplete. Before he could voice his question about existential planes, Carmion anticipated the confusion and elaborated.
"The existential planes," he said, "are, according to the great magicians, infinite worlds stacked atop one another, all existing on a single planet."
Carmion's tone was gentle yet precise. "I can see this is new to you, so I will explain simply. Imagine layers of reality. Each a separate world, yet all layered together like pages in a book. Each plane has its own laws and beings. Traveling between these planes is no small feat."
Edmund's eyes brightened with intrigue, but he was quick to ask, "Why is this process so difficult?"
Carmion rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the window where the last rays of sunlight kissed the horizon.
"There is a concept known as the existential level of creatures," he explained slowly. "This level relates to the very essence of a being's existence. It acts as a barrier, the greatest obstacle to traveling through the higher existential planes."
He leaned back, the leather chair creaking beneath his weight. "Only those whose existential level matches or surpasses the plane they wish to enter can pass through safely. Otherwise, the journey can be fatal or impossible."
The room fell into a brief silence, the weight of this knowledge settling in. Carmion then added, "You must also remember that all this occurred in ancient times, during the days of our world's greatness."
His voice lowered, carrying a hint of reverence. "Back then, we had ways to travel across worlds, galaxies, and even the entire universe, although traveling through the worlds on a single planet was more arduous."
Edmund's curiosity burned brighter. "What happened to those ways? Why can't we do it now?"
Carmion's eyes darkened with a shadow of regret. "Our world has been sealed by a legendary ninth rank mage named *Laviselle.* Because of this, exiting the world is nearly impossible for anyone below the sixth rank."
He sighed softly. "This sealing was meant to protect Nizmurir from dangers beyond, but it has also trapped us within its boundaries."
As Carmion spoke, the flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the shelves. The room felt alive with the echoes of forgotten knowledge and lost eras. Edmund absorbed the weight of history and the burden of the present.
Grievous watched the exchange, appreciating Carmion's dedication to truth and balance.
'To be a true historian,' he mused, 'is to bear the responsibility of impartiality. Carmion embodies this ideal in every word.'
The professor's voice, steady and unwavering, wove a tapestry of cosmic history that illuminated the room. It was a story of death and rebirth, of gods and galaxies, of ancient power and present limitation.
And at its center, the world of Nizmurir, bound by magic and time, waited silently for those who might one day unlock its mysteries once more.
---
Edmund's eyes sparkled with unrestrained curiosity as he looked up at Carmion. His youthful face was lit by a bright, eager glow that made the dim room feel warmer.
"Professor," Edmund began, voice tinged with hope, "you already know so much about history and magi. May I ask, are you a mage?"
Carmion's lips curved into a gentle smile, amused by the boy's directness. The question carried the innocence of youth yet held a deeper hunger for understanding.
"I'm actually an early first rank magician," Carmion replied, his voice steady and calm. "It's not considered very strong, but the reason I know so much is that I studied at the capital's University of Humanities and Magic."
Hearing this, Edmund's eyes lit up even more, if possible, as if a new world had opened before him.
"Does that mean all students there have this knowledge naturally?" he asked eagerly. "I want to study there. It sounds very interesting."
Carmion chuckled, though there was a faint dryness to it, like a shadow passing through his expression.
"The capital is not as wonderful as you might imagine," he said quietly. "It is the most dangerous place in the entire kingdom, where high ranking nobles and the royal family hold sway."
He paused, glancing at Edmund's bright face, then continued.
"Even nobles like Lord Hyde do not like going to the capital because of the hidden and obvious conflicts there."
Edmund nodded slowly, his young mind recalling the countless books he had devoured. They were filled with stories of political intrigue, betrayals, and power struggles. Although he did not understand every detail, he sensed the gravity beneath the surface.
The boy's gaze narrowed slightly, a flicker of comprehension crossing his features. Carmion's words had struck a chord.
'Edmund's intelligence and genius are truly terrifying,' Grievous thought, watching the boy with a mixture of admiration and caution.
The man had seen many faces in his years, but Edmund's calm and measured demeanor hinted at a mind far beyond his years.
'If he were given more time, he would undoubtedly become a monster that would swallow the sky,' Grievous mused silently.
His understanding of the capital's dangers surpassed that of the two before him.
Having walked the treacherous political arenas of the capital of his country for years, he knew well the hidden schemes and rivalries.
Conflicts that lurked beneath polite smiles and formal bows often boiled just below the surface.
Occasionally, these tensions erupted, spilling into the open with deadly consequences.
The death of one or two politicians was not uncommon in the capital.
Sometimes they fell because they dared oppose someone equal or superior.
Other times, they were simply obstacles in the path of ambition.
Grievous's gaze hardened as he considered these truths.
The capital was a place where knowledge alone was not enough.
Survival required cunning, alliances, and the constant awareness of unseen threats.
Edmund's bright eyes, so full of hope, seemed almost fragile against such a backdrop.
Yet there was a fire in the boy's spirit that hinted he might not be so easily broken.
Carmion looked at Edmund with a mixture of pride and concern.
"Studying at the capital's university is a privilege, but it comes with a heavy price," he warned gently.
"You must be prepared for more than just lessons and magic."
The boy nodded solemnly, absorbing the weight of the professor's words.
"I understand," Edmund said quietly. "But I want to learn. I want to be ready for whatever comes."
Carmion's smile softened, touched by the boy's determination.
"Very well," he said. "Then you must be strong in both mind and heart."
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the distant echoes of a kingdom's unrest.
Within the quiet room, a young boy dreamed of knowledge and power, unaware of the shadows waiting in the capital's streets.
And somewhere far away, the wheels of fate continued to turn, drawing all toward inevitable confrontation.