EU || Knowledge Worth Keeping

At the sound of chiming bells—the sound startling to the three Reoseans who weren't expecting such a sound in the caverns—the Haedians surrounding them froze in the middle of their reading and writing to look towards a cavern that had a nearly unnatural glow emanating from further in. As one, the surrounding Haedians pack their things and put them in their bookcases and cubbies while cubs run between their feet with giggles and squeals.

The trio look within their group, confusion maring their faces as they tried to understand what the bell signified and its importance if even the children found the bell something to be excited about. Quietly, the three are nudged forward towards the cavern, a line of Haedians on either side of them while they remain in the middle. They're quiet as they walk along the path towards the unnatural glow, only the sounds of the cubs echoing from further within as they squeal louder with excitement.

As they turn around a corner, Karyss and Prophet inhale sharply at the sight of the glowing crystal door, nine different kinds of Haedians chipped into the design. They stare in wonder the closer they get, realizing that in the middle of the nine was a larger, more imposing figure.

“It's like the Elder and the Holy One… They have a leader they look up to.” Damocles murmurs, eyes flicking from Haedian to Haedian.

Prophet examines the designs the closer they get to the doors, her eyes narrowing in thought before they widen in realization. “They’re the clans. There's nine of them? How haven't we-?”

Karyss stops in front of the door, looking up at it with wide eyes. Never had she seen such a beautifully imposing entrance, much less one that looked so knowledgeable in its design. “I think history is only repeating. This journey—its like with the others, isn't it? There's going to be another war if we aren't careful.”

Prophet’s brow wrinkled, before her expression grew distant, mouth drawing into a line. “I hope not. But there’s been more bloodshed over less, I guess.”

Damocles tilted his head, “War aside, this is quite stunning craftsmanship. Whatever’s going on in there must be of great value to them.”

“Yeah,” Karyss snorted, “Like dusty old books.”

“That teach us the past we can avoid repeating?” Prophet quipped, and Karyss stuck her tongue out at her.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyways, are we gonna go in? Or did someone freeze you into place there?” Karyss shrugged, “Not that it’d be a great loss, I guess. I’d get all the game and glory from finding whatever’s over here and reporting it back to the surface.”

“As if!” Prophet huffed, “Move aside. Let’s go.”

The trio carefully pushed the doors open, and what was inside took their breaths away. Again.

Behind the shimmering crystal doors, the ceiling seemed to swoop up into what would be dim shadows, if not for the magically lit braziers. They illuminated the ceiling, which was painted in glorious, glowing detail. The walls, too, were decorated with such stories, seemingly showing histories and haedians long past. Stony beams curled upward to meet the ceiling, having been carved in elegant shapes and detailed with swirling colors. The floor, likewise, was stone, but had upon it a brilliantly woven carpet. The shapes and patterns didn’t make sense to the trio, but it seemed to have some sort of cultural significance to the cavern-dwellers.

Haedians milled about the lavishly-decorated place, many staring at the murals in awe, with the elders sitting in crowds of pups, regaling them with obviously heroic tales. The adults seemed content to chatter amongst themselves in smaller groups, or have time to contemplate whatever was written on these walls.

There were stairs, too. Grand ones. They too were carpeted, and on them sat Khaldor, who seemed to be having a very animated conversation with one of the other haedians about something that was directly above them. In his hand, he clutched a rather mystical-looking crystal.

Hesitantly, the trio approached him, stealing glances at the splendor around them. Who could have known that the underground could hold such beauty?

“No, no!” Khaldor spluttered, “I can’t believe I have to say this, but the Great Divine-!” His eyes swiftly caught on the three, and he cleared his throat. The other haedian looked over their shoulder, and smirked.

“I suppose we can have this conversation at a later time, Khaldor. I don’t suppose your opinions will be changing any time soon?”

He looked almost taken aback, “Surely not! To suggest otherwise would- well. Let’s not get into it now.” He stretched out his hands as the other haedian slunk away, seemingly satisfied with whatever conversation they’d just had. “Welcome, friends! This is our Chronicle Hall. The home and heart of our clan. Our most prized treasury.”

“Gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever been let into a treasury so easily,” Karyss quipped, “Or seen one with such little… actual treasure.”

The green haedian looked like he’d been slapped, and if he could turn red, he might have. “Our knowledge is actual treasure. But I shall take no offense. Perhaps for surface dwellers, knowledge comes easily and has no need to be stored in such grand vaults. Here, however, we preserve our history and skills, lest they be forgotten.” Khaldor gestured all around them, “And behold! The history of the haedians! As far back as was told, anyways.”

“Fascinating,” Damocles remarked, eyeing the crystal, “And is that, too, part of your history?”

“Oh yes!” the haedian nodded, “Much of our important history is marked on these walls; carved into stone to be commemorated forever. But in recent generations, we have also been amenable to using more modern technologies. This crystal, for example, can be used to record such things. It may be activated at any time, and is similar to our oral traditions.” He gestured to a particular group of pups that had gathered around an elder, “Such as these. But a more one-on-one experience.” 

Karyss’ fascination in the Chronicle Hall extended out as much as a pup had patience, but Prophet and Damocles were invested in the crystal Khaldor held. Pale runes mingled inside the faceted surface in languages neither of them could understand at a glance. The Haedian extended the crystal in his hand and beckoned the three of them closer. 

 “Come, see for yourselves.” With a guiding hand, he had each Vayron reach a paw onto the crystal’s surface. Karyss eyed between all of them skeptically, feeling the draw of the magic already. Were it to be too strong, she wasn’t sure what might happen. 

But much to her relief, the tug was gentle, subtle, allowing each of them to connect with the stored energy within. Flittering images passed their visions, memories put inside the crystal from times past. Knowledge of tradition, the clans, their differences and similarities. It was hard to keep up with the influx of information.

Yanking back her paw, Karyss shook her head and blinked her eyes to reorient herself. “That is…” she started, looking at the crystal that Prophet and Damocles still reached out to. “Something.”

Khaldor gave a polite smile, humming. “It is an effective and space friendly way to do what us Keepers do. Keep knowledge, record, teach.”

Damocles and Prophet soon took their paws away and blinked away the feeling that disappeared with the severed connection. Damocles looked around at the vast walls of the Hall with newfound interest. “I would like to have another look if we’re permitted. This is all very fascinating…” 

Khaldor smiled more proudly at this. “You are our esteemed guests, invited to our hall for a reason. Please, learn. We ask not much in return, except knowledge.” He gestured a hand out to the Hall for the three Vayrons to continue their learning if they desired.