Desmond Hunt Stories: The Primus

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Entry 4: The Primus

I was told the light-house has been here long before my grandfather found it and decided to build a school over it. How long exactly? I questioned myself.

Emmet and I walked through the light-house’s door. In an instant, I felt a surge of magic flow through me. It was different, it had a warmth to it but at same time it was cold, a mixture I’ve never encountered before, it was indecisive yet absolute.

The building was hollowed and in the middle of the round almost empty light-house, on top of a small hill of dirt, stood a single simplistic door, with a dark blue wooden frame. Just a door. A door with six keyholes, in position one after the other on the door’s midline. Two of the keyholes had keys lodged inside them.

He called it the Primus and asked me what I’m seeing. I told him exactly what I saw, and he looked at me with another big smile. He hoped I would see what I’m seeing.

Emmet said he sees the same thing, the door with six keyholes and two keys but the Primus can change...

The Primus has no constant shape, it changes its appearance according to who’s viewing it.

The light-house’s door opened again, Rossie walked in with a large red book in hand, it had gold floral spread over the cover. She casually said hello, as if this was completely normal to her, and asked what I do I see.

I wanted to say a door with two keys, but with Rossie in the room, the door had a third key lodged into one of the keyholes.

Questions filled my head, I couldn’t choose just one.

I answered her question with my new answer. Rossie was delighted they have found another one like them and handed me the red book, she said she knew exactly what questions I wanted to ask and in the pages of the red book I will find the answers. Emmet agreed with her.

Before I could open the book, Rossie stopped me. She requested I find somewhere quiet; a place no one can cause disturbance. They refused to answer my questions themselves, not even a simple question of what is going on.

My pleas didn’t work and I was forced to leave them in the light-house and go read the book I was given.

There’s only one place in the school’s premises I know I can find seclusion. On the way there, I debated with myself on the door’s meaning before getting myself immersed in the book.

I’ve seen strange things before but not like this, an element of magic like this, the Primus echoed in a very strange frequency, who could be so powerful to create it? Whatever spell was used, it lingers.

I reached the clock tower, I took the flight of stairs, and I reached the top floor. The couch I brought up there, from when I was a student, was still here overlooking the courtyard through an arch window. I was right to choose the clock tower; no one comes here. I moved the couch away from the window to the side, keeping myself away from anyone’s attention.

I took a deep breath, sat down and opened the book. I guessed the identity of the book’s author, knowing my grandfather did love writing journals. I guess I’m like him.

I opened the book, a gust of red colored dust released from the pages and began enveloping me. Initially, I thought I would be transported into a vision or see my grandfather’s memories.

Instead I was met by a strange creature, a four-eyed fox.

We were in a darkened empty space, no one else but us. The fox was much larger than me, it stood tall, blinking simultaneously his four eyes while examining me.

it spoke “Another Desmond, Another life”. I answered back I am the grandson. It knew who I was, it almost looked offended when I clarified it. It leaped towards me, smelled me, it stopped before my face and gazed at me. “Another Desmond”, he repeated.

The fox asked my intentions. I didn’t answer, I didn’t understand what it wanted. In my mind I carry just the intention I always had, to survive. The fox said I was pure.

Can the fox read my thoughts?

The fox’s tone shifted many times, I couldn’t classify the fox’s gender, sometimes clearly and sometimes quite gently, between male and female, even both at once.

I remembered Rossie said I will find answers in the book but the fox was incoherent, talking about the others. “They have yet to come”. The others.

What others?

Becoming tired of the fox’s inability to answer direct questions, I decided it was time to leave. The fox mostly acted as a child, it was playful but unhelpful. I wasn’t getting answers.

The fox felt I was ready to leave and revealed its teeth, at first I thought it was snarling but I realized very fast, it was smiling. It called me its friend and asked me to come back to visit.

I woke up on the couch in the clock tower. I looked out the window to see the day had turned to night.

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