Chapter 10 - continued

An enraged Donovan continued to search the great cavern in disgust. It was becoming more obvious to the warrior that this place might have been a place for worship. It certainly wasn't a defensive structure, as he had yet to come across a single weapon. There had been a library, there had been sleeping quarters, and there was a large Ifriit garden; but he had still not found an armory.

While there were no signs of armaments, he did begin to notice large gouges in the great granite walls. Indistinguishable at first, these cuts into the rock looked almost like gigantic claw marks. Three to four rows of similarly inch wide depressions could be traced in parallel formations across the stone walls and ceiling. He had never come across a creature on his travels that could possibly be large enough to make such marks. The fear that was brooding within him began to grow larger.

Several hundred paces from the Ifriit pond, the young man came across a great wooden doorway. A majority of the rooms up to this point did not have any doors, and those that did only had small ones. Here before him were two large wooden doors covered with intricate carvings. Painted figures with large feathered wings could be seen gracing the entry before him. The warrior grabbed one of the wrought iron handles and pulled it open. The ancient door creaked as its rusted hinges were pried open.

A flurry of bats screeched upon hearing the noise and began to flutter about the room. They quickly exited via a giant hole located in the ceiling. Apparently the massive opening was from where a large chunk of the hill had fallen down into the space. Great rays of light shone down upon the rubble on the floor.

From above, a small unsteady trickle of water dripped onto the smooth granite floor. The water drops echoed through the great hall as they fell. Of the constructed rooms he had come across, this was by far the largest one. The ceiling rose into the air at least ten times that of Donovan's height. The space could easily accommodate several hundred men.

Sitting opposite from the doors a distance away appeared to be a great brass organ in disrepair. Rocks, which had fallen from the ceiling, had destroyed its mechanics and bent its once shiny pipes. Two large fabric-covered wooden bellows located on each side of the organ had been crushed by the fallen stone. The bellows must have powered the musical device with great puffs of air at one point. Donovan was fairly certain the instrument would never again make a single note.

In front of the musical instrument sat a solid marble podium. The swirls of soft blue and gray on its surface glistened in the light. Not a single scratch could be seen upon the pillar. Figures with large feathered wings, similar to the paintings on the door, were carved into its surface. On top of the pillar lay a very large and tattered book that still lay open.

It was quite obvious to Donovan that he had entered a chapel of some sort. Much like the other rooms of the cavernous complex, it had gone unused for what seemed like a centuries. The architecture of this room differed considerably from the rigid designs of the holy chambers found in Gestalt. This space seemed like it must have been full of energy and warmth at one point, much unlike his church of old.

Much more elaborate pews could be seen in the center of the room. Their seats were covered with plush red cushions that appeared to now be rotten. Dry basins that had once been filled with water, presumably for ceremonial use, stood upon stone pedestals at the front of the room.

Donovan walked up to the tattered book upon the podium so that he might get a better look. The open pages were terribly weathered, most likely due to the water and sunlight within the room. Extremely faded script could be seen upon the yellow stained paper. As he tried to turn the pages the fragile parchment disintegrated into dust within his fingers. He closed the book in an attempt to determine its origin and found no writing upon the cover or its back.

Donovan frustrated that he was unable to read from the book, began to think. "The symbols of this church feel odd. It does not feel to be the religion of me and my people. It is similar but strikingly different. I wonder if the man at the desk could shed some light on my questions."

Donovan left the great chapel, his footsteps echoing through the great hall, and made his way back through the great cavernous complex.

Upon the dead man's desk lay several books. Most of them appeared to be in a similar weathered state to the book upon the pedestal. Cobwebs and a thick layer of dust lay upon the ancient tomes.

Directly in front of the man in his chair sat a single open book. It did not look to be nearly as aged as the others, with its pages only slightly yellowed. The current page that the text was open to was torn in half. Upon the upper portion of the ripped page were handwritten words penned in black ink.

Donovan flipped the book over so that he could read what might be on the cover. The binding of the book was made from heavy leather that was stained a deep reddish-brown. A pattern of concentric circles could be seen cut lightly into the text's coverings. Upon the leather bound folio were the words "Journal of Cernus Whedon" printed with a golden inlay.

"So you must be Cernus," said Donovan as he faced the body fastened to his chair. "I wonder what might have happened to you in this cavern, and what may have caused your murder via this spear. Do you happen to know whether or not this journal of yours will answer any of my queries?"

The warrior initially tried to remove the spear from within the corpse so that he might sit down in the body's chair, but after considerable work he was unable to even budge the golden weapon. The tip of the lance was positioned very deep in the rock, and it was not going to move without tremendous force.

Satisfied that Cernus would be stapled to this wooden chair of his for eternity, Donovan gathered another simpler stool from nearby and sat beside him. He began to read from the dead man's journal.

14th day of Spring, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
Ah, this will be quite exciting. I haven't left the chapel of this town in what seems like ages. The upper sages have given me the task of locating any Precursor structures that I might find within this world of ours. They say it is of dire importance that I find any additional information regarding the Precursors. I'm not privy to why the situation is so dire. I'd imagine that I will find out upon my glorious return.

I've decided that I shall find the lost village of Ternail Dae.

Yes, yes, the great city where the Cataclysm itself occurred. It doesn't hurt to go big! It'll be grand when I find it after all this time!

The tomes that I have read in our libraries say that it may lie to the north of here. No one has of course found it, with it being lost and all, but I will try my best. So after I say my goodbyes and gather my supplies, I'll be off! I can't wait until my adventure!

"Holy Cataclysm? What Holy Cataclysm?" Donovan thought. He had never heard of such a thing. The few history books he had the privilege to read outside of combat training spoke of no such event. "Just how old is this journal?" he thought to himself. He paused for a moment to ponder his own question, and then he continued to read the journal's next entry.

36th day of Spring, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
Oh why, oh why did I accept such a foolish mission? I'm but a simple cleric in my thirtieth year. I'm not suited for adventure! I've been trudging around this bloody forest for what seems like months on end.

My robes are full of mud and my stomach is terribly empty. Maybe I should have learned better cooking skills with my time versus spending all my hours in the libraries reading about spells and scriptures. Reading a cookbook is not the same as actually learning it via experience, I'll tell you that. My stomach will actually tell you that. The Heavens themselves can probably hear the pangs of my hunger.

There is obviously nothing above the ground that the locals have even seen resembling a lost city. I guess if it were that simple, Ternail Dae wouldn't be lost for all these centuries. And to think, the only record of Ternail Dae is a short history of the Cataclysm. Of course that is an important milestone, but to think that a great city so pertinent to our history might not even exist… ok, maybe I shouldn't have said that.

I'm getting down on myself. I have to keep God close to my heart if I am to find the great city. He and the Heavens above will guide me. I'm certain of it. It'll only be a matter of days before I discover it. I pray it's only a few days before I find it…


38th day of Spring, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
I've found it! I can't believe I've found it! I've found the great city of Ternail Dae!

Well, truth be told, it kind of found me. Just by walking upon a large forested hill yesterday during that torrential downpour was the luck I needed. The ground beneath me gave out and I fell. I fell straight into the main chapel of this ancient church, along with a sizeable portion of the ceiling mind you. I'm lucky that I survived the great leap into this amazing underworld!

Stones from the ceiling crushed a number of the pews as well as a brass organ located in the rear of the chapel. Is it blasphemous to desecrate a chapel, even if by accident? I'll be sure to pray for forgiveness later, once after the bruises from my fall heal.

In the meantime, there is much exploring to do! I've already run around the halls for several hours and I am amazed at what I've found.

I'll be sure to write later. There is so much to do, so much to read!


5th day of Summer, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
On my searches I've found the great halls littered with an amazing number of bodies, both those of man… and those of something else. Nothing but their skeletons remain, but it is obvious that the dead come from a great battle, possibly from the Cataclysm itself! Huge scars in the stone litter a number of the walls, evidentially from the claws of the larger beast-like corpses. I don't think they were Pontia either.

I've made it my duty to dispose of all the bodies. It is the law you know, and we can't have the monstrous Pontia desecrating these skeletons for their evil uses. I gathered them all and burned them in a great fire. I should have thought before I started the blaze though, as the entire cavern became filled with ash-laden smoke that has lasted these past several days. I doubt I will ever be able to get rid of this putrid smell from my nose.

As far as Pontia are concerned, I can hear the yells and screams from the vile beasts living in the forest above. Their voices can be heard echoing down through the open roof of the chapel, but I have yet to encounter a single one inside of this city. I don't quite know what I would do if I should encounter one. My only successful encounter with a Pontia was when I was accompanied by two knights; and one of them died! Thank God they haven't invaded the caves yet.

The great water garden of Ifriit is most certainly keeping them at bay. The Pontia seem to flee from the very presence of Ifriit, and that has definitely been a benefit for my frail form. Nothing else seems to live within these hallowed walls, and so I am here writing in this journal alone.

Not that I mind. I have an entire library of books to read! I've already learned a couple of useful spells just from the small amount of time spent with them. One such spell is actually penning this book as we speak! No inked filled hands or stained sleeves for me today!

Many of the books have detailed histories of the events before the Cataclysm. Wouldn't the priests back at home love to learn what little I have learned so far!

Speaking of home, there doesn't appear to be an exit to the great caverns…

This is slightly disconcerting. I've found several archways that lead outside, but unfortunately they have all great piles of rubble blocking any exit. I'm not quite of the physical strength to dig through the rock and on to freedom. I'll have to find another way out, possibly through the chapel.

At least I have a well stocked kitchen and pantry with which to sustain myself. I'm sure that I will find some way to exit the caverns before I run out of the supplies found within this complex.

I sure hope I don't tire of preserves and poorly baked bread! I bake the bread myself you know. It's not the best, but it suffices. Maybe I should start using some yeast… if I can find any.

Time to read some more!

Donovan took a short break from reading. "This Cernus appeared to be likable. Strange that he fell into the discovery of this place… just like myself I suppose. Were his actions and those of mine persuaded by God and the Heavens?

"Is there truly divine intervention? The scriptures state that man has been visited by heavenly messengers in the past. No proof of their appearances exist today… but does that mean that it didn't happen?

"His notes here should be able to save myself valuable time scouring the library… well I suppose my time isn't precious anymore. At least his notes are far easier to read than how I'd imagine the ancient books are written. Plus his notes don't appear to turn to dust upon contact."

The warrior continued to read the notes of the cleric Cernus.

16th day of Summer, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
What I've read so far is quite disconcerting, and an extreme blow to my faith. I will strive to stay focused and faithful to the Lord, but this new information of the past is a blow to my previously held truths.

I've come across some scriptures that explain the state of Heaven prior to our current existence of Heaven. Yes, the scriptures state that there have been at least two instances of Heaven over the ages. Apparently, we are living under what appears to be the second generation of Heaven. And the Holy Cataclysm that we always speak of is the germination of that second generation.

We of course never knew the full details of the Holy Cataclysm, but we do know that the world was almost torn asunder during those times. Thousands of people died, cities were destroyed, and many a great thing was lost. Due to the events, the earth was in complete chaos for the span of a year.

Evidentially, it was the Precursors whom caused the Holy Cataclysm. They did not plan to directly cause so much hurt upon the world, but they desired to revolt against Heaven. Their desires for revolt were due to the Heavens above apparently becoming corrupt; almost toying with the lives of the people for entertainment.

The entities were vengeful, merciless, and cruel. They would kill for pleasure and cause entire plagues simply as experiments. The Precursors detested this and took action to stop their motions.

This complex, the Ternail Dae, was built for the sole purpose of planning an attack on Heaven… in order to destroy it.

For reasons that I do not yet understand, it was thought by the Precursors that the Heavens need the world of man in order to survive. The Precursors also thought that Heaven was very afraid of what man might be capable of. It was these ideals that led them to believe man could feasibly bring upon the fall of Heaven.

Another truth that I've come across is that, against what I have been taught, Heaven is not omnipotent.

They supposedly cannot see what we do every second of our lives, nor can they read our thoughts. They do have great power, and can act with that power, but they apparently cannot survey all. Only God appears to have the sole capability to see all, but this power was not granted to his followers in Heaven.

In some of the writings I've found, it also seems that God was noticeably absent during this time for unspecified reasons. He, or She as some of the books are written, merely comes and goes from our world on His whims. Only when it pleases the great Lord, will He intervene. Without the apparent guidance of God, Heaven's motives fell into disarray and became corrupt.

Very little was written directly before, during, and immediately following the great battles between man and Heaven. The clerics appeared to be far too occupied with their survival instead of documenting the events as they unfolded.

Did they not know that their very purpose as a cleric was to preserve history? It was their sworn duty to write about the events so that they may last through the annals of history!

There are pages scattered throughout a multitude of texts speaking about the minions of Heaven being able to transform into large ferocious beasts. This leads me to believe these bestial forms were the cause of the great gashes in the walls of the city. The larger skeletons that I found within the caverns also support this theory. Even the bones of these creatures were horrific, and nothing like what I would expect from the Heavens.

There are also anecdotes of single men defeating entire battalions of angels. How this was possible are not discussed. I'd assume that this was simply an attempt by the historians to add a bit of flourish and myth into their writings.

It does seem that man and the constructors of the Ternail Dae were successful in their war, but not without high casualties and tremendous loss. Many of the Cloth died in the attacks, with nearly one half of the Church of the time falling to the might of Heaven.

Very little is written about what happened to the Church members after the war was completed. Only a handful of Church members survived the war and continued to preach the Holy Scriptures across the land. What then, happened to the other majority? How is it that they are not accounted for?

I will have to continue my research in hopes of finding the answer. I feel I've only begun to scratch the surface of this ancient knowledge. For now, I will continue reading.


5th day of Fall, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
After many months, I have learned very little about my remaining questions. The texts are becoming harder and harder to read because of their age. I must read them all before they degrade into nothingness.

I've learned a few more spells: light bearing spells, projectile spells, and illusionary spells to list a few. Very few of them are actually useful to me here in the cavern. It's a struggle to split my time between both history and magic. I often find myself drifting to the magic books more often than the historic tomes. This I feel I must rectify. I have my job and my purpose here to think of.

Oh, and I should occasionally remember to eat more often. These pesky books are quite time consuming, and I must remember to keep myself nourished. A sickly body cannot process the data as efficiently as a fed one!

From now on I'll keep track of my meals in this log in an attempt to remind myself. This should also give myself breaks from my studies. I must strive to keep myself going.

Today's meals: Hand-made flatbread, strawberry preserves that appeared at least five centuries old (still good), moldy cheese (very disgusting)


6th day of Fall, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
I learned how to control the floating light spell listed in "Dae de Paladain", loosely translated as "Magic of the Paladin". Without having to handle a torch or candle for my studies, I can read twice as fast! I now have the assistance of a bright glowing object that follows my every whim!

Today's meals: Hand-made flatbread (burnt), boysenberry preserves (quite tart), a tankard of ale (quite good)


7th day of Fall, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
Today's meals: Hand-made flatbread, some fruit stew I made from ancient preserves, water from one of the many kegs


8th day of Fall, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
Today's meals: Hand-made flatbread, water, some wine (quite exquisite)


9th day of Fall, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
I've already become tired of logging my meals. It distracts me from my studies. I hope that I continue to feed myself regardless. I'm sure that my body will let me know when it is hungry.

I am also quite tired of eating my pathetic attempts at flatbread. Well, I'm not trying to make flatbread directly, but with my little knowledge it is about all I can seem to make. Either burned or undercooked, either is very unsatisfying. If only I could find some yeast, then I could make something much more… airy.

Donovan continued to read for hours upon end. He couldn't determine how long he had sat beside the dead cleric reading, but he couldn't seem to turn away from the man's journal. Page after page contained a great history of that which existed before his people. The facts contained within the folio were so innumerous that he doubted he could remember them all.

Here before him was very valuable knowledge of what had come before. "Is it all true?" he thought to himself. "Why had the parish not shared this information with the other members of the Church? Do they even know these truths themselves? Or, perhaps, were they keeping them a secret?"

The young warrior's thoughts began to dawdle on whether it was wise to share this possibly dangerous information. "Even though the truths exposed are disturbing, this information should still be shared. It is the people's right to know their history; both good and bad."

He thought some more, "Does the Church herself deserve to know this information?

"Is the entire parish corrupted, or just those upper members of Gestalt? Do I dare deny the rest of the Church this wonderful knowledge?"

After considering his thoughts multiple times, Donovan made a decision. "I shall share this man's journal. It is my duty from God Himself that I speak these truths to those that will listen, and to even those who refuse to listen. These chronicles of our past must be distributed!"

Satisfied that he had a greater purpose again, Donovan continued to read.

3rd day of Winter, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
While trying to reach one of the books that lay high in the library stacks, I fell off one of the tall ladders down onto the ground. I should have known better, and moved to the ladder before climbing, but I was so close to reaching it before I fell! It was nearly in my fingers!

My arm snapped upon hitting the stone floor of the library. I, of course, cried in pain. I had never had a single bone break and the pain was immeasurable. I easily panicked for several hours. A full bottle of wine from the cellar didn't even calm my nerves.

Of course I came to my senses about the resources of this ancient cave. As anyone would do with several hundred Ifriit at their disposal, I made use of one. I wasn't expecting to convulse nor feel the way I did, but as it is foretold I was fully healed.

What I wasn't expecting was to feel as drained as I did after the process. Nowhere had I read that my energy would dwindle to but a fraction. Why was that so?

I, of course, made use of the great tomes located in the library to solve my question. It seems that while an Ifriit seed has immeasurable curative powers, it does have its nasty little consequences.

Upon ingestion of any amount of Ifriit, some essence of life is destroyed. The essence that is destroyed is from the end of one's life. So simply by using the benefit of a seed, a person's soul and lifespan is shortened. It seems the balancing equation is one complete Ifriit seed removes a full year from the end of one's existence.

The side of effect of this lost life force is that the person seems to age faster, almost rapidly in some extreme cases. Stories are chronicled of wealthy land owners who splurged on their horded Ifriit and became wrinkled not even halfway through their life. So I guess I'm a year older, and just that much closer to my demise.

Had I known this beforehand, I might have been more cautious with my use of its powers. To have a full year removed from the end of my life is disheartening. Oh well, what can I do now? Just die a year earlier I suppose…

On my studies about the Ifriit though, I did learn something else.

As most know, in order to ascend to Heaven and be part of her upper flock one must eventually die. What exactly one has to do in order to successfully join the ranks of Heaven, other than dying, is quite vague. We know that we must serve the Church and hold an undying faith in the Lord. Other than that, it has always been a mystery.

The other "secret" of the process turns out to be related to the use of Ifriit seeds. In seems that it is possible to gain greater status within the annals of Heaven by the consuming the holy fruit. So the use Ifriit is twofold: a quicker death and a greater opportunity to ascend.

I wonder how many of the elder sages know of this process. Has anyone I've ever known ascended in this fashion?

So that begs the question: which is more important? To live long and prosperous on this plane, or ascend quickly to spend your eternal life in Heaven? Quite a paradox if you ask me. I'm not sure which I would choose.

Can we read books in Heaven? No scriptures speak of this, and no information regarding this question is known.

It's a shame no one who has ascended to Heaven left notes about the upper planes. Having questions such as this answered would help considerably with my decision.

As the young man read this passage, prior events that he had seen in the room with the three sages began to make sense. The facts spelled out by the cleric Cernus now told of their reasons for consuming Ifriit seeds, even though they were preciously rare. Ovembre, Steirlen, and the high priest Darria were attempting to ascend to Heaven. He wondered just how many other upper priests followed this process.

Hundreds of people could have been saved with the use of the seeds that the upper priests squandered. They put their own agendas ahead of the very people they swore to protect! The continual anger that ran through Donovan's veins continued to throb as he read the ancient journal.

28th day of Winter, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
The cold within the cavern has grown bitter. I feel as I have burned every piece of available firewood that this place contains. I hope I don't resort to burning pieces of furniture… or horror of horrors, the great books!

I've had to bar the doors of the main chapel in an attempt to hold back the winter snow. Drafts from the outside world were chilling the entire structure and I had to put a stop to that.

The great doors have begun to freeze together due to the melted snow behind them however. A waterfall of ice encrusts the wooden entry from top to bottom. Even if I wanted to open the doors, I'm sure that an avalanche would fall upon me. Woe is me.

I fear that I should have made plans to leave the cavern long before winter arrived. I most assuredly cannot exit from Ternail Dae in this weather. I neither have the skill to climb my way out, nor the knowledge of a magic that might assist me. If only I could find a levitation spell of some sort to aid in my escape. I shall pursue such a spell with much diligence. I fear my very life is at stake now. Maybe in the spring I may make an attempt.

My supplies within the kitchen have dwindled severely. The flour has started to become rancid, as I should have closed the bags when they were not in use. My flatbread, which was horrible at the start, is barely edible now. It is like eating biscuits made of sand.

And I am terribly tired of eating preserves. I cannot even tell the difference between the different fruit jellies in the jars. They all taste the same now! Each of them is sweet and tart in a horrible sense of irony.

A cooking fire in the kitchen that I had tried to use for heating purposes ended up setting one of the wooden tables ablaze with its embers. I should be more careful in the future. I will use this self-warming spell I've found to keep my body heat up.

Ah, yes. Much better now. I should have cast that spell earlier.

Even though my situation here is becoming dire, I have come across a rather interesting find. I found a locked book with a heavy metallic cover hidden within a false space in the library. I noticed that one of the rocks that made up the great walls was discolored, almost having a greenish hue. Granite is distinctly gray and so it was amazing that I found this "fake" stone to begin with. I guess my mind wandered and my eyes saw the greenish color in the light.

While the majority of the books in the library are written in an ancient dialect of our common language, the letter-like symbols upon the locked book appear to be far removed from anything I have ever seen. My attempts to translate it using other books in the library have only led to the discovery that they mean something along the lines of "forbidden".

Why or how a book can be "forbidden" is a foreign concept to me. If someone writes something down, then they must have had a desire for it to be read. A book that cannot be read is useless. It is like a river that you cannot drink from; a pointless existence.

I will continue to see if I can learn the metallic book's secrets. I will try to keep my insatiable desire to read this "forbidden" book at bay. Keeping myself restrained from the book is almost as worse as being stuck in this blasted frozen cavern. The shrouded knowledge within the tome is tearing at my very being.

As before, I will use the will of God and the Heavens to keep my desires at bay. I must trust my instincts, and determine what the true purpose of the book is before I attempt to read from it.

Sitting upon the table in front of Donovan was this so-called forbidden book. Its cover was made from a thick rusted iron that was bound together with great rivets. It was easily several hundred pages thick. Eerie shapes that looked of doom dotted its surface. It lay closed, but its latch had been pried open.

"Did Cernus read from this book?"

45th day of Winter, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
I have determined what the purpose of the "forbidden" book is!

In ancient words printed upon its back, it contains a detailed history of the relationship between man and Heaven itself. Within its pages are the secrets of why Heaven fears the will of man! The very reasons for why the Precursors believed they could successfully overthrow the upper plane are detailed in this book! Marvelous!

Apparently this knowledge is far too volatile to be shared. I wonder why that is?

I believe I should trust my instincts and leave these truths out of my realm of knowledge. If the Precursors believed strongly enough that this information must not be shared liberally, then I must respect their wishes.

Oh, but how the idea of knowing this greatest of secrets eats away at my daily thoughts!

I have dreams at night of reading the grand book. Every time I see the true reason for Heaven's fear of the world of man, the words become a blur and I continually race to find the answer within the pages.

I've noticed that my already thin frame is becoming even more emaciated. I need to find a suitable way to continue my sustenance or my time here will be for naught. I wonder if I could find a spell or magic that can generate food for myself. Could I generate a roast duck or some seasoned beef out of thin air? Oh how glorious that would be!


62nd day of Winter, 414th year after the Holy Cataclysm
I fear I may have doomed myself. I have pried open the lock upon the forbidden book and read from its contents. This was not knowledge that man can learn freely. They will most certainly be able to locate me now. I am almost certain…

Ack…

Ahhhh…

Donovan had reached the final page of Cernus's journal. As he had seen before, the page had been torn in half at its midsection. Apparently, it seems the cleric died as he was documenting this passage. The final odd screams upon the page must have come from the penning spell he was using.

"What exactly did Cernus read that caused his death? Apparently he was killed by this great golden spear, but by whom and for what reason?

"Would a similar fate befall me if I were to read from the book? Should I dare?

"No, I mustn't. I must do what Cernus failed to do and share the great revelations found within this cavern of Ternail Dae. His journal must be shared!"

Continue to Chapter 11