The Phantom Prophecy (Book Two)

Chapter 2: Meanwhile...

Vlad Masters leaned back in his chair in the comfort of his own castle's office. A black leather clad book rested on his face, covering his tired features. The desk in front of him was covered in books, scrolls, scattered papers and journals, all written in different languages and symbols. A golden dove in a gilded cage rested on a coffee table on the other side of the room, chirping endlessly. Vlad had tried everything to make it stop, but nothing would make the glittering bird shut up. 

The elder halfa groaned, feeling a migraine coming on. He heard the doors of his study open and the clinking of glassware being placed on his desk. The doors quickly shut as Vlad removed the book from his face and looked at his desk. A hot cup of green tea was sitting on a clear spot on his desk. Vlad felt a small smile creep on his face as he picked up the cup and took a sip. He almost spit it out immediately as he felt a pulsing warmth rise in his chest. 

Vlad swallowed and groaned. "I do wish you would stop appearing so suddenly," he complained, staring into the shadows of his office. 

A ghost with features completely hidden by a tattered dark purple cloak floated out of the darkness, narrowing its red eyes. "And I wish you would make some progress on our research," the ghost snapped back, annoyed.

Vlad raised an eyebrow at his ally. He took another sip of his tea before setting the cup down and picking up the book that had been resting on his face moments ago. He opened it flipping through the pages, landing on a random page and hitting it with the back of his hand. "I have been searching for answers for the past three months!" he said, exasperated. 

He set the book down, sifting through the piles of papers and scrolls on his desk. "I have been searching, reading, and translating endlessly, all while trying to run a backwater city!" Vlad exclaimed, pushing papers off his desk. "I have found nothing, not one thing that could get us closer to finding out who and where the Ancients are! Meanwhile you disappear doing heaven knows what!" Vlad breathed heavily, having finished his outburst. Normally the elder halfa would have not lost his composure so easily but months of hitting nothing but dead ends had Vlad Masters at the end of his rope.

The feature-less ghost remained silent. It floated closer to Vlad's desk, crouching to the floor to pick up a soft blue leather bound book with black and gold symbols covering it. "We hit a standstill because we both lacked the knowledge to read this text," the ghost mused, opening the book and flipping through it's decaying pages mindlessly. "But now," the ghost continued, extending a green, skeletal hand that held a tiny silver book, "we may have all our questions answered."

"What is that?" Vlad asked, eyeing the small book. It was no bigger than the ghost's palm, with a silver cover. Tiny writing could be seen on the front but Vlad couldn't make out the words.

"This, dear Plasmius, is a Spirit Tome," the ghost explained, childlike glee in their eyes. "It holds infinite knowledge of, well, everything," the cloaked specter finished with a shrug.

Realization flickered in Vlad's eyes. A devious grin appeared on his face as he took the Spirit Tome from the ghost's skeletal hand. "Which includes unknown languages, I assume?" he asked with a smirk, holding up the tiny book.

The ghost nodded. "They are very rare and hard to find," they explained, taking the Spirit Tome back. They cleared the desk of all clutter and placed the Tome on the desk next to the book Vlad had stolen from Ghost Writer's library months ago. "Luckily, after you destroyed that Ghost Writer's domain, many of his collections were scattered about the Ghost Zone. I was lucky to find that little treasure," the red eyed spirit chuckled.

Black rings appeared around Vlad's waist and spread over his body, transforming him into his evil alter ego, Vlad Plasmius. He stood and leaned over the desk, staring at the two books. "So how do we use it?" he asked.