Bibliophobia

Bibliophobia is an Odyssey Event, and the forty seventh in the series. It is scheduled to start on April 20, 2016 at 12:00 AM (PST) and end on April 22, 2016 at 7:59 PM (PST).

Feature Changes
New Event UR (Ringed) Smoke-Averse Eleight is available before the start of the event in the Ascension Saga Card Pack.

Odyssey Skill Cards

 * History Observer Aithris (UR) Test of Strength Card. Gives 2x the Items regardless of Skill level. Gives 3x the Items when evolved with maxed out Skill.
 * Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) Boosts the number of Event Items acquired by up to 1.2x regardless of Skill Level.
 * (Unravel) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.3x boost.
 * (Formation) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.4x boost.
 * (Pansophy) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.5x boost.
 * (Dissolve) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.6x boost.
 * (Proud Mind) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.7x boost.
 * (Deference) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.8x boost.
 * (Diminished) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.9x boost.
 * (Reluctant) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 2.0x boost.
 * (Innervated) Wisdom Goddess Eleight (UR EX) 4.0x boost.

Story
You had scarcely moved from your splayed position upon the soaring dragon's back. The mark of evil upon your chest, too, had given no sign of fading. Elimval sat by your side, her face wrought with concern.

"Are you feeling better yet, Hero?"

Resembling a gash, the Stigma itself was deep crimson with clotted blood. However, its only influence upon you at the moment was a dull pain. Though you were grateful to be in possession of your right mind, there was no telling when the darkness would take over. As you pondered the next course of action, Salvador turned from where he sat on the dragon's shoulders, hands at the reins.

"Hey, there's a huge library called the Wehmkin Archive not far from here. If you want to look into this Stigma business, there's no better place. It's run by a goddess named Eleight, and she might know a thing or two herself."

"Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea! If we can discover its cause, we may be able to prove the Hero's innocence!"

"I doubt you'll be so lucky, but they might help you scrounge up some clues at least."

"I suppose that's true... but regardless, it should be a worthwhile visit!"

Ever since you had woken up in the Valley of K'wyen, your memories had been vague and unordered. All you could discern was that something had happened after leaving the volcanic caverns that had brought you to a world that was not quite your own. Here, creatures twisted by evil known as Stigmals were rampant, and they would not die until their core, called a Komora Stone, was "plucked." The so-called Lightholders were a force specializing in their eradication, but their barbaric methods were unpardonable. You fought against them while struggling with the ominous implications of the remnants of your memory. That was when a pair of enigmatic oracles descended from the sky and accused you of killing the goddess of harmony. From that moment, you were an unequivocal criminal in the eyes of the empire, and were further condemned by the appearance of the Stigma upon your breast. It was only with the aid of Salvador, a mercenary archer, that you were able to escape from imminent punishment. It seemed he was impressed by your efforts in rescuing the dragon you now rode from the clutches of the Lightholders. You could only assume he felt a bond of some kind with the winged beasts...

......

Eleight glared at the creeping smoke. There was a distinctly unnatural quality about it, for it lacked the telltale heat of fire.

"...What could be the cause?"

Her query was absorbed by the silence as the haze writhed along the stone floors. She searched her mind for other possibilities, and that very act held another purpose. The goddess was the manifestation of the greatest accumulation of knowledge on the planet, the Wehmkin Archive. By methodically delving through her mental stores, she could read the contents of any book within the massive library, in addition to learning its indexed location. However, there were suddenly hundreds of books that she could not view. A troublesome realization she was loath to admit, for ignorance was the greatest offense in her eyes, but with the draining of her memory came the draining of her stamina. Even sitting did not bring rest.

The crisis started with a simple wisp of smoke. As there was nothing more threatening to books than fire, all haste was made to locate its source. To her horror, none who investigated ever returned, and for the first time since her birth long ago, she was alone. Attempts across several days of searching her mind to identify the cause also proved fruitless while the smoke continued to build. It was imperative she resolve the incident, but she felt it disgraceful that one with her talent deign herself to physically open a book.

Through the window, she noticed a dragon flying through the skies. Presuming it to be ridden by a Lightholder already engaged in some other matter, she huffed with disappointment. Though she did not doubt they would come to her aid were she to request it, she ventured to keep the issue private. Their forceful methods had not escaped her notice and she did not wish to risk becoming suspected as a Stigmal. The patrols were only growing more frequent and intrusive as they searched for the recently identified originator of the Stigma phenomenon. Not only was their mark clearly carved into their chest instead of behind the ear, but they had murdered the goddess of harmony, Belgantier. Whether the mark developed spontaneously or due to the death of the goddess was yet obscure. None of that held any bearing upon Eleight's situation, however; the mere announcement of her dilemma would preclude a fall from grace at best. No vestige of weakness could be shown to the High Emperor Ildanev, be he present or not.

"What should I do?"

She ground her teeth in frustration, regretting her complete lack of aides. A great number of clerks served to keep the library in order, and nearly all were able to wield magic, proof of their intelligence. In exchange for perusing the records and stores of the Archive, all were expected to contribute some portion of their own knowledge in return. For that reason, the illiterate and the uneducated were not welcome. After all, it was necessary that one possess knowledge in order to attain it.

"If only Keoli were here..."

She was instrumental in enforcing the rule of no leeching at the Archive. However, she had been alongside those who left to investigate the smoke and did not return.

Another clerk came to the front of Eleight's mind: Aithris, whom she had not seen since before the smoke had appeared. She was a tome restorer and a gifted sorceress, but would shirk her assigned tasks in favor of reading the books she should have been fixing. One of her unique spells allowed her to insert herself into the setting of any book she pleased. Whenever she could not be found, Eleight could simply search the text for her description and locate her without fail. However, on the occasion she had escaped into a book within the book, then she would be beyond detection. Thinking an attempt would be worthwhile, Eleight combed for her through the millions of pages. Compared to the previous search, there were already some thousand more "unreadable" ones, bringing a concerned frown to her face.

"I hope she is somewhere safe... Mmm, what's this?"

In one particular book, there was a portrayal of a woman who closely matched Aithris' appearance.

"An inquisitive, raven-haired maiden who adored books..."

The sentence had absolutely no bearing on the surrounding events in the text, as if it had wandered in from a collection of poems. She was undoubtedly within that book. But when Eleight read the title, she was surprised not that she could not read it, but that it was unfamiliar to her.

"What's this... 'Mystic Sleuth Harriet'?"

It appeared that Aithris had taken her usual imprudence a step further by inserting herself into a piece of childish fiction that was likely her own property.

"The smoke has obscured a portion of the contents, but I can observe a scene of an explosion. Where could that foolish novel be anyway? There's no category for fiction here..."

As it had not been properly added to the collection, she renewed her concentration in hopes to locate the book through another search. However, she instead found another book that seemed readable, but was not, overwhelming her with a new sort of discomfort.

"Wh-what is the meaning...?"

Though she initially thought it was an effect of the smoke, she realized she could read it, but the contents themselves were utterly incomprehensible. The pages were all black, as if dipped in ink.

"The title is... 'The Tragedy of the Destitute'?"

As Aithris' book, it was similarly unknown, but it did not seem like hers for its ominous quality did not befit her capricious personality. Exerting her greatest concentration, she attempted to read it once more. Yet no matter how much she focused, she could not perceive a single phrase. It was as if each page was a complete void...

"Ah, something is finally coming into view..."

It was neither glyph nor symbol, but a scene of a lone woman chanting a curse, bathed in a pale fire. All around her were books, igniting and turning into ash.

"This... this is Wehmkin!"

Eleight's eyes flew open in shock. The sorcery involved was unclear, but it was beyond all doubt that both the black-paged book and the woman depicted within were the cause of the calamity.

"I must find her at all costs. Aithris will be invaluable as well, for I can have her explore that horrid book..."

She rose unsteadily to her feet. The never-ending loneliness vexed her, as was the extraordinary misfortune of being unable to request help from the empire...

"Hm? Who's there?"

Hearing soft footfalls, she turned to main doorway where she saw a figure step through.

"Wazui, it's you!"

Another sorcerer who frequently visited the Archive, the return of Wazui was fortuitous. Spurred by reassurance, Eleight dragged her weighty body towards him, her intuition drowned out by desperation. Even from a distance, it was clear that his eyes were hollow and his form trembled without cease. Placing a hand upon his scythe, he moaned...

"May the dark swallow the light..."

"...You're a Stigmal?"

He charged at her with his weapon raised.

"No..."

Under any other circumstance, she could have easily outmatched him, but she was now far too weak to defend herself. She attempted to gather up the last of her strength to retreat. However, before he could come within striking range, a flashing arc appeared behind him and tore through his back.

"Splendid attack, Hero!"

The high-pitched praise of a woman accompanied Wazui's prompt retreat.

"I hope you aren't hurt..."

She appeared to be an elf, and standing behind her were two warriors: one was a man with a bow strapped to his back, the other clad in dull, battle-worn garb. It was clear the latter had attacked Wazui, but the Stigma was clearly visible upon their chest, a hole in their tunic exposing the swollen, bruised skin.

"A-are you...?"

The slayer of the goddess of harmony, Belgantier, and the one who plunged the entire world into madness, known by a name that could only be called ironic: "The Hero."

"C'mon, didn't I tell you wait before pullin' any fancy tricks? If we can't get the goddess here on our side, there's no way we'll even be able to read the spines."

The archer spoke with affected exasperation to the other, but the elf argued in their favor.

"The Hero can't be stopped when there's someone who needs to be saved! There's no telling what could've happened if we had hesitated!"

"All right, I get it, now pipe down. Hey, Eleight, wasn't it? We're looking for info about this Stigma mess. Know of anythin' that could point us in the right direction? And what's with this smoke? You'd rather burn the place down before lettin' the Stigmals have it or somethin'?."

"That's not how you address a goddess, Salvador! Besides, I believe we need to help her before we ask for any favors!"

The mention of "help" jolted the dazed Eleight back to her senses.

"Did you mention wishing to help me? Why should a goddess consort with villains such as yourselves?"

She did not intend the accusatory tone of her words; she was merely overwhelmed by the sudden development. Regardless, upon hearing the utterance of "villains," the elf gasped as color drained from her face.

"See? A waste of time, just like I said."

Salvador swiftly pulled an arrow to the bowstring and aimed it directly at the goddess.

"No, Salvador! We can negotiate..."

"If we kill her, we won't have to bother with that. Fortunately, she doesn't seem like she can put up much of a fight. Hear that, Eleight? You're helpin' us one way or another. We need to know everythin' about the Stigmals so we can clear the Hero's name, and we ain't takin' 'no' for an answer."

As he held the tightened bowstring, the one with the Stigma scarred into their chest stepped in between his arrow and the weakened goddess. Salvador heaved a sigh.

"Cripes, not this stunt again."

"Please, Eleight, you must believe us! The Hero isn't a villain, no matter what that Stigma means! So I beg of you to allow us to look through your books..."

"In actuality, the empire asked me to conduct research regarding the Stigmals soon after their appearance. Unfortunately, there is nothing within these walls that contain the information you seek. However..."

She answered the elf's question while staring at the back of the Hero. Pausing for a moment to consider if they were worth trusting, she realized that she had nothing to lose by casting her lot with them.

"However, a second search may possibly prove fruitful. That is, if you are willing to accept my conditions."

Salvador furrowed his brow.

"Let me guess: you want us to invent a contraption that coats paper in a thin but resilient coating of clear resin."

"Be quiet, Salvador! Please tell us the conditions, Eleight! We'll try our best to meet them!"

"...Very well. As you can see, the Archive is currently facing grave danger. The key in resolving it lies in the retrieval of two books. Their titles are 'Mystic Sleuth Harriet' and 'The Tragedy of the Destitute'."

She turned to look at the Hero, her gaze beholding the clarity in their eyes.

"Can you do this for me?"

Even before she asked the question, she realized they were proper and just, and not the evil-doers they were rumored to be. As expected, the Hero gave a sharp nod.

"Then I shall accompany you. Be warned -- there are undoubtedly other Stigmals ahead, so we must advance with all caution."

The relieved Eleight guided them into the core of the Wehmkin Archive. The fate of millennia of knowledge hinged upon the retrieval of two books...