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Aeryn Valeria Roderick Journal Page : 14

Today I finally prepared myself mentally to write this entry.

Because after yesterday’s conversation, I do not think my understanding of the world will ever return to its previous state.

I will divide the discussion into two pages.

Not for dramatic effect.

I am simply too mentally exhausted to process everything at once.

Yesterday, Lord DeLuna invited me privately into his office inside The Echoing Sanctum.

The room itself was surprisingly ordinary by the island’s standards.

A scholar’s office.

Large shelves.

Stacks of books.

Loose papers organized in ways only their owner could understand.

Soft silver robes hanging neatly near the windows.

Tea that had clearly gone cold several hours earlier.

The atmosphere was calm.

Not intimidating.

Which somehow made it worse.

Lord DeLuna welcomed me with the same quiet politeness he used at home.

Warm.

Measured.

Like speaking to someone while simultaneously evaluating the structure of their thoughts.

He told me he had already heard many things about me.

“Miss Roderick,” he said calmly.

I immediately asked him to call me Ryn instead.

Thankfully he agreed.

Then he thanked me.

Genuinely.

For accompanying Miss DeLuna during her travels.

For becoming her friend while she explored the outside world.

The way he said it almost made the journey sound temporary.

Like Reine had merely stepped outside briefly rather than crossed half the continent.

After that, he mentioned that Miss DeLuna had apparently asked questions regarding the supply posts across the island.

Lord DeLuna explained casually that Isla de la Luna receives resources from the four surrounding kingdoms equally in exchange for access to the information preserved here.

As a result, both the island and its surrounding waters remain neutral territory.

No kingdom governs this place.

And according to him, no kingdom is allowed to.

Naturally, I began wondering how much I was truly permitted to ask.

So I told him honestly that if my curiosity crossed boundaries, I would rather remain silent than disrespect his hospitality.

Lord DeLuna smiled softly.

Then asked a question that nearly killed me internally.

“Your curiosity,” he said gently.

“Is it the curiosity of Reine’s friend?”

“Or the curiosity of the heir of Roderick Street?”

I almost answered immediately.

I almost said: “As her friend.”

But something stopped me.

Perhaps this island itself.

Perhaps exhaustion.

Or perhaps I finally understood that this place has no use for masks.

I thought carefully.

Then admitted the truth.

“Eighty percent because I am a Roderick.”

Lord DeLuna nodded immediately.

No disappointment.

No judgment.

Only approval.

As though honesty itself was the correct answer.

Then he told me I could ask anything.

Anything.

Because according to him, there are no true secrets on this island.

Not because the DeLuna family hides the island from the world—

But because the world hides the island from itself.

Because what exists here would destabilize the balance of civilization if fully revealed.

I remember sitting there wondering if I had ever experienced this feeling before.

Being allowed to ask questions freely…

Yet suddenly realizing every question feels either too small…

Or far too dangerous.

Eventually I asked the simplest thing I could think of.

Who exactly is the DeLuna family?

Lord DeLuna seemed to notice my hesitation immediately.

He reassured me that curiosity is respected here.

That knowledge begins with the willingness to ask.

Then he asked if I understood the origin of artifacts.

Of course I did.

Every educated merchant heir learns that history.

Artifacts are remnants formed from echoes of the past.

Objects recreated through concentrated arcane energy around leyline zones.

Fragments of a vanished civilization advanced enough to solve most material problems before disappearing for unknown reasons.

Treasure Vaults produce such objects because of abnormal arcane accumulation.

That is the accepted historical understanding.

Lord DeLuna nodded.

Then casually destroyed my understanding of reality.

He told me Isla de la Luna is what remains of that civilization.

Not inspired by it.

Not descended from it.

It.

The civilization itself.

Still alive.

Still functioning.

Still here.

I remember my hands becoming cold.

Lord DeLuna then retrieved a book from one of the shelves behind him.

The moment I saw it, instinct alone told me the object was worth more than most noble estates.

I could not read the alphabet.

The symbols were entirely foreign.

But the typography was impossibly precise.

The paper quality beyond anything I had ever touched.

The binding flawless.

Not luxurious in the decorative sense.

Efficient.

Engineered.

Like an object created after craftsmanship itself had already been perfected.

Then Lord DeLuna explained.

According to their records, around two thousand years ago—

More specifically, 2026 years ago—

A catastrophic event struck their world.

Not this world.

Their world.

Before the disaster, their civilization had already progressed beyond most material limitations.

Food.

Energy.

Infrastructure.

Communication.

Many fundamental problems had already been solved.

So what remained was the pursuit of knowledge itself.

Then something happened.

Lord DeLuna described it vaguely.

Distortion.

Collapse.

A world-ending phenomenon.

And somehow, during that catastrophe, Isla de la Luna was displaced into the current world.

Not metaphorically displaced.

Literally.

Moved.

He explained that during earlier centuries, several kingdoms attempted to conquer the island after discovering its existence.

But Isla de la Luna survived because its defensive systems were vastly more advanced than anything the surrounding civilizations could comprehend.

The explanation itself was calm.

Academic.

Gentle.

Which somehow made it feel even more real.

And the worst part—

I believed him.

Not because the story sounded convincing.

But because nothing on this island requires deception.

There is no marketplace for manipulation here.

No visible struggle for status.

No need to invent myths for power.

Everything simply exists as it is.

And the records…

The records were too detailed.

Far too detailed.

I think the true horror began when I realized Lord DeLuna was not telling me a legend.

He was explaining history.

Real history.

I will continue writing the rest tomorrow.

My thoughts are becoming difficult to organize.

And I suspect I need sleep before I accidentally reconsider the entire structure of civilization again.

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