Chapter 28 Protecting The Codex

Chapter 28 Protecting The Codex
It was the Keeper’s cain that woke Jorren tht morning. He had gone to bed so late that he had slept into the later hours of the morning. He turned this way and that way, the thin pallet suddenly unusually comfortable. The Keeper hit him again.

“Up and moving, boy!” The old man growled.

Jorren turned again, then forced himself up and rubbed his eyes. 

“Your soul got trapped,” he said. “And you got rid of it that same night.”

Jorren hesistated. He knew admitting it would mean telling the Keeper how he acquired it. He wasn’t exactly sure, but he was certain that the Seal was given to him the moment he left tier five. He could bet on it.

“I’m sorry, but I snuck into tier five because—” 

“I don’t care about how you got yourself into the mess in the first place,” the keeper said. “What matters to me is that you found a way to take care of it. After your third Ascension, the Codex should show you how to eliminated montoring Seals without having to viist the Dead Zone.”

Jorren didn’t nod. He knew he didn’t have to. He understood the Keeper.  With a struggle, he pushed himself from the pallet and stood up. 

“If you are going to protect yourself,” the keeper continued. “You need to find a sufficient protection for the book.”

Jorren paused and looked at the man. Then he slowly gestured to the book within his coat and the Keeper nodded.

“How do I protect it?”

“The void slag.” The Keeper said. “It will help you build a strong shield for the codex.”

“A shield?”

“There are a lot of things in the black market that promises protection and safety,” the Keeper stated. “But because of the kind of path you’re threading, you need something custom made. Something that can handle your essence output and while serving as a hideout and a shield for the Codex.”

Jorren thought about it. The Keeper was right. He won’t keep hiding the Codex within his coat. If he found himself in intense situations with the Codex within his coat, he would have to reveal it eventually if he wants to be free enough to escape.

“How do I find this Void Slag?” Jorren asked.

The Keeper didn’t hesitate. “The Black markets. At the lower levels of tier two. You’d find the material there. Try to keep your head as low as possible.”

“I try to keep a low profile,” Jorren said.

“Well, you might want to stop trying and actually do it.”

Later that morning, Jorren thale was on his way to the black market in tier two. His body screamed for more rest and sleep, but he knew better. His life was a life of sacrifice, and the codex quickly rewards the deeds of his sacrifice. He had seen the Codex record and  applaud his visit to the dead szoen at the late time when he did it.

When he arrived at the market, he was expecting things to be off, since it was called a black market, but he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Everything felt perfect and in order.

Then it hit him. He had remembered Solaria talking about the need to keep illegal stuff a secret. His tactical intelligence kicked in, and he didn’t suppose it would be different here. He looked this way and that way not knowing how to start. He never really asked the Keeper how the  Void slag looked like.

He started walking, his eyes scanning the products on the stalls. Some of them were grains, some crystalline, some not. The others were clothing materials. His eyes scanned the displayed product like the eyes of a thief, his senses on top alert until a voice stopped him.

“Jorren Thale.”

He didn’t look at first. The voice was not familar, but the voice sounded like it knew him from somewhere, and it had known him for long. He hesitated, wondering why someone who knew him so well would be in a black market in tier two. What would they want with him?

His tactical intelligence told hm ther was no danger and he turned. An old man with grey hair and wrinkles in so many place waved him over to his stall with a grin. 

“Jorren Thale,” he grinned wider as Jorren approached. “You’re so grown. You look so much like your father.”

Jorren didn’t accept the compliment. For years, he had been made to believe that his father was a failure. He didn’t go with the statement of the crowd, but didn’t fully support his dad’s behaviour either.

“Whatever brought you to the black market meant you’re following the exact footstpes of your father,” the old friend continued. “What brings you here, young lad?”

Jorren looked around his stall. He had some cloth materials that had unnecessary energy charge in them. A handful of strange kinds of comb sat in a bowl. Beside them were different boxes that contained different kinds of grains.

“You don’t suppose you have the Void slag, do you?” 

The old man broke into a short laugh. “I said it. Just like the father. You know, I use to admire him. Despite being a Negative resonance, he was determnined not to end that way. He chose to go against the system. And when he was making progress, the system deleted him.”

Jorren froze. His face was as straight as it was when he arrived, but within him, he had gone cold. This was new information. He had always assumed his dad commited suicide, because that was what he was told. Now, the old man who looked like he knew Valen Thale claimed he wad deleted.

“Here,” the man produced something wrapped in linen and handed over to him. “Here, the void slag. I do suppose you know, but you don’t handle the void slag with bare hands. Send my greetings to your trainer.”

Jorren was about to walk off, but then paused and looked at the old man.

“Did you know my father that well?” He asked the man, skeptical.

The man chuckled loudly. “Jorren Thale used to be my good friend. One of the days I came to the house to see him. You were so little.”

Jorren didn’t blink, but he would have. He nodded at the old man and walked off.

He had just being handed a piece of a puzzle.