Colors swirl and spin around me, reforming the library into a balcony with a view of a lakeside city. I feel mildly sick from the weird magic the Librarian had used, but I’m still determined to find Faladel and Briareth. Turning around to take stock of my bearings, I nearly bump into a strangely dressed Elf, and then yelp in surprise as he walks right through me.

“Balderk?” I hear Faladel’s concerned voice and glance around, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, a weird elf guy just walked through me like I wasn’t there. No harm done though. I don’t think he even noticed me.”

“You mean the guard?” I hear Briareth’s voice shout from what feels like right next to me. “The design on the armor he’s wearing looks a little like one of the really old formal uniforms I once saw on display.”

“No need to shout, I can’t see you but I can hear you just fine.” I grump in the direction the voice came from.

“Quit with the roleplay!” The Librarian’s voice scolds. “It’s amusing, but I worked really hard setting up this backstory for you guys, and I don’t want you to ruin it with your chatter. Just be quiet and let the story play out.”

I fall silent and watch as the ‘guard’ looks around the balcony. His long ebony braid of hair flicks as he spins on his heel to face me again. His eyes slide right over me like I’m not even there, and he heads back inside calling “Prince Delphin!” I dodge out of his way, not wanting him to walk through me again.

“If we follow him,” I ask the Librarian, watching as the guard enters the building behind us. “Will we run into your bookshelves?”

“Of course not!” The Librarian says, making a sound I interpret as a snort. “What do you think I am, an amateur? Even if you try to not follow him, the illusion will actually force you to. It’s not a pleasant experience, so I suggest you get moving.”

I hurry inside the main building and watch as the guard turns a corner.

“Ages ago,” A slightly tinny version of the Librarian’s voice begins a narrative, as I hurry after the guard. “So long in fact, that the history has lost its place in time, there once lived a –”

“Wait a second, what does “lost its place in time” even mean?” Cuts in Briareth.

“It means they used a different time system. They measured things based on Y.A.T.S., the Years After Transferal System. Not the Heronmal Years System.” The Librarian’s regular voice comes back and sounds dangerously annoyed. “The two aren’t compatible, and there were a lot of years lost between the switch, so we have no clue exactly when things happened. Now no more interruptions, I’ll answer questions after the recording is finished playing.”

“There once lived an Elf Prince named Delphin.” The tinny voice continues “He was a clever young man of 23, considered an adult by his culture, and everyone believed that, once his ailing father died, he would make a great king.”

“These were days of peace and light, for both dwarves and elves. However, light cannot exist without shadow. Things weren’t perfect for either kingdom. Populations were growing despite attempted restrictions. Resources were being stretched thin. Piracy and highway robbery was on the rise. The people of both kingdoms were unsatisfied.”

The narration paused. The guard I was following suddenly stopped in front of an elaborate door. After knocking gently, he poked his head inside and called “Prince Delphin?”

“Yes?” Answered a smooth, light voice. “Is it time for the meeting with the Ambassador and Lords already?”

“It starts in ten minutes, Your Highness. Your father says he’ll be there as well.”

“What?!” There is the sound of something falling over from inside the room. The guard swings the door open a little further, and I can see a brown haired, green eyed elf scrambling to grasp sheets of parchment and restack a small pile of books in a messy sitting room. “But the King hasn’t attended any meeting in months, not even my birthday dinner!” He protests.

“Well, today he said he felt well enough to. I think he may have heard rumors of your proposal, Highness, and wants to be there for your first major presentation.”

The elf Prince pales. “Oh Biscuits. Like I need another reason to be nervous.”

“You’ll do fine.” The guard goes into the room, and I follow. It’s a cozy, slightly austere, little study room. The floor is well carpeted, and the shelves are full of books. From the number of chairs around, it is clearly designed to hold more than just one person. It isn’t the style of the rooms in the Elvish castle, nor is it like any Dwarvish design I’ve seen. I stop studying the room as the guard offers “Would you like me to help pick up your papers, Highness?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Yes, yes,” the prince grabs a few more papers off the floor, and then hesitates. “Tell me the truth, Sir Tethli. Do you think I should just scrap this proposal?”

“After all the hard work you’ve put into making it, Highness? Of course not! Besides, everyone already knows that you’re planning to propose something radical. If you show up to the meeting with nothing, they’ll be disappointed.”

“Of course.” The prince sighs, resuming stacking papers. “I can’t afford to disappoint them again. As always, your wisdom is much appreciated.”

Once they’re finished, they hurry off, and I follow. The narration begins again once we reach the Chamber of Lords, where the Prince’s Presentation will happen.

“It’s not that this presentation was the Prince’s first, but it was the first one where he’d come up with the idea behind it all by himself.” The room grayed out, the people moving twice as fast as normal, and their talking regulated to a background murmur. Once the prince stood up, it slowed down a little, and although I couldn’t hear him, I could see him gesturing grandly. The audience looked enraptured.

“The Prince proposed that, to halt the piracy and robbery that hobbled both trade routes and merchants, and squandered precious goods, the Elves should create a large force of guards that would patrol the trade routes and protect caravans. They could have outposts less than a day's journey from each other, so the caravans would always have somewhere safe to rest. These guards would be regulated similarly to the small group who worked in the castle, but on a much larger scale, with one person in control of each camp, reporting to a superior in charge of their region, who reported to the king. Nothing like this had ever been proposed before in the long years the Elves and Dwarves had spent in this land, because there had never been a reason for longstanding groups of soldiers before.

“After some debating, and arguing over minute details, the king declared the proposal a law, and nobody voiced any discontent. The Dwarven Ambassador even commented that he would bring this up with his monarch and suggest to mirror it in dwarven territories, so that both sides of the border would be safeguarded for trading caravans.”

I watch as the King smiles at his son, and the dwarf sitting next to him busily scribbles notes on a piece of parchment. Then the scene blurs into a colorful swirl again.

“Time passes,” The Librarian’s tinny voice continues with the narration. “The King dies, and the Prince takes his fathers position.” Before me zips an image of the Prince in funeral white, tears streaming down his face, and then him at a coronation, gravely accepting a crown. “The law appears to be successful. Crime rates aren’t just down along the trade route, they go down countrywide. However, this doesn't solve all the problems. Populations continue to grow despite government attempts to keep them down. Resources become even more strained than they had been. People are upset again. And then thievery starts to rise once more. Prisons are overpopulated with people who need to feed their families.” I don’t need the image of the prison, I can guess what they look like, but the image swims in front of my face despite that. “Towns compete with each other to attract merchants and farmers.” I watch as people in a tiny village cheer a merchant's cart passing by. “Tensions begin to rise between elves and dwarves. Foreign Exchange programs end.” A brief image of a dwarf levitating his bags as he walks away from a school, flashes through my vision.

“Both races see the other side of the border as greener, a land of plenty compared to their starving territory. Then disaster hits, a disease wipes out almost all wheat crops less than a month before harvest time. Elves and dwarves face a winter of starvation. On the border towns that grew on the outposts of the guarded trade routes, elven guards and villagers get together, and raid the dwarven side, slaughtering anyone they can and robbing the town of anything edible.“

I stare at a small burning village, bright red and orange flames consuming my vision, screams echoing through the illusion. The Librarian adds on. “This does not go unnoticed.” The scene fades to black.

“Wait wait, hold up a second.” Briareth’s voice cuts in again. I jump. I’d forgotten he and Faladel were experiencing this with me.

“Elves started the war?” Briareth continues, incredulous. “You’re telling us we’re basically responsible for this massive loss of life that's been going on for thousands and thousands of years?”

“I never said that.” The Librarian snaps, not pleased with another interruption. “Elves created armies, but dwarves copied them. One side may have attacked first, but it could also be true that earlier skirmishes were just unnoticed. I blame rising populations and the disease that wiped out the crops, not anyone or any race. You aren’t looking for a who-dun-it competition, you’re looking for a solution, right?”

“Yes.” Briareth mumbles.

“Then let me finish my story!” The Librarian exclaims. Suddenly, the black is gone, and before me is an elderly King on a throne.

“Delphin had grown old. Had watched his other friends die before him, and had already borne an heir. But, he had one last decision to make as king. What to do about the famine that was approaching, and the oncoming war. On the other side of the border, the dwarven king, slightly younger than Delphin, was forced to make a similar choice.” My vision split in two, and a dwarven king in a not very different throne room considered a report. “Each,” The tinny voice continues, “chose to save their people the best way they knew how. To conquer new land and gain more resources.”