It seemed impossible to find a moment to speak with Erdrik in private. They arrived early the next day, armed with determination and an arsenal of detection and portal spells, which they had been casting relentlessly.
They found scrolls waiting for them at their desks when they reached their workplace at the Barking Toad. Erdrik’s precise handwriting adorned the title, which read ‘Portal Casting Protocol’. Below, there was a detailed description of the proper procedure for opening, protecting and closing a portal after the spell was completed. The next section was labeled ‘Energy Source Protocol’ and the remainder of the scroll continued in a similar fashion. And to top it off, a note was hung on the inside of the wardrobe door, stating, ‘Books must be returned to their designated spots and organized by size and alphabetically.’
“Hold on,” Xandar said as he read the note, scratching his head, “What happens if a book is larger than the rest but is last alphabetically? Isn’t that a clash?”
Erdrik waved off the concern with a nonchalant flick of his wrist. “There will be no clash. You first sort them by size, and then arrange them alphabetically within each size category. The instructions are quite clear. This is meant to reduce searching time and help you. This is helpful.”
Xandar glanced skeptically at the two shelves, pondering if such a meager collection of books truly required such an elaborate organizational system, but chose not to voice his thoughts, not wanting to ignite another argument.
He attempted to lure Erdrik out of the room on a couple of occasions. Once, he mentioned going downstairs to buy a cup of tea.
“Would anyone like to join me?” he had asked then, looking from Elderon to Erdrik. “They make wonderful scones as well.”
“I’ve already had tea,” was Erdrik’s reply.
Xandar expected Elderon to scoff or dismiss him with an aristocratic sneer, but much to his surprise, the dark elf rose from his seat, saying that he would not mind a little desert. After that Xandar had no choice but to spend his short break in his aloof company.
Another opportunity arose when Erdrik abruptly sprang to his feet and dashed toward the exit, not bothering to wear his coat or hat. As Xandar got up to follow, Elderon remarked, “Round two?”
Erdrik turned to look at him, and Xandar, caught between his inquisitive stare and Elderon’s mocking grin, pretended to stretch awkwardly.
“These chairs can be really hard on the behind, huh?” he tried to joke, but Erdrik simply turned and exited the room, while Elderon shook his head, muttering something under his breath.
The day dragged on at a snail’s pace. Erdrik’s intricate instructions stretched the spell casting process, and at times, Xandar couldn’t fathom their necessity. One method for creating an energy source was particularly cumbersome, consisting of a medley of smaller spells that set the stage for when the energy source would eventually be closed.
“Why not just close the source yourself when you’re done?” Xandar asked one time.
Erdrik met the question with a challenging gaze. “And what if something unexpected happens during the spellcasting? What if you’re incapacitated and unable to close the source?”
“Then the energy source would close on its own, wouldn’t it?” Xandar pondered, his confidence waning with each word.
Erdrik shook his head. “That assumes the energy source is tied to the wizard and the wizard dies. But dying is only one option. What if the wizard passes out, or gets paralyzed due to the spell’s side effects or an unwelcome encounter? The source would remain, endangering any person who tried to handle it and wreaking gods-know-what havoc on our realm. Seems to me that better just avoid such calamities, hence, the protocol.”
Xandar mulled over Erdrik’s reasoning. “If you mean paralyzed or injured at the hands - or, other parts - of something summoned, well, we have the circle for that, right?”
“And what if the threat originated from someone not summoned?” Erdrik shot back, unyielding.
It made sense, but it required a generous suspension of disbelief, brushing aside such concepts as probability.
“Hold on,” he interjected, raising a finger after a brief pause, “What if I’m attacked while casting the spell, and it’s not some interdimensional creature? If the energy source closes automatically, but I need that additional power to fend off the attacker? Wouldn’t it be detrimental?”
Erdrik glare could freeze the room. “We could hypothesize all day, of course, that would be very nice. But we are here to accomplish something. This is how I’ve worked, as have many accomplished magical societies, for years. These methods are the product of tested experience and this is how I envision our group operating. Can we agree on that?”
“Sure, I suppose,” Xandar muttered, defeated. From the corner of his eye he saw Elderon, pretending not to be invested in the conversation while smirking under his nose.
After tirelessly repeating all the spells Xandar and Elderon had previously attempted the other day, properly this time, Erdrik insisted on revisiting the books once more to ensure they hadn’t overlooked anything. He even picked up a few books himself for further investigation. It was about an hour later that Xandar slammed shut the book in front of him with a resounding thump, stood up, and stretched - this time without any pretense.
“I believe I’ve gone through all the books I could,” he declared, striding towards the wardrobe. “What if I head to the university and find some additional sources for us to explore?”
Crouching down, he set about organizing the books he had brought from his desk, starting with the largest ones and arranging them in their correct alphabetical order on the shelf, then progressing the smaller ones.
“Now that is a splendid idea, actually,” Erdrik chimed in, “I’ll go with you.”
Xandar sprung to his feet so quickly that he nearly toppled over. “Oh, good!” he exclaimed, and then, realizing his enthusiasm had slipped out more than he had intended, casually added, “Company is always welcome.”
“Yes, I have been meaning to pay a visit to the library since my arrival, just haven’t found the time yet,” Erdrik went on, closing the book in front of him and getting up.
Elderon turned in his chair. “I could go with Xandar,” he offered.
Erdrik eyed the stack of books on the dark elf’s desk, with the largest one open somewhere in the middle. “I’d prefer you finish with all of those first, just to ensure we haven’t missed a thing,” he said, “Besides, I have some business at the library aside from books.”
Xandar watched, restless, as Erdrik organized the books on his desk, then donned his coat and hat. Once they stepped into the hallway, Erdrik requested a moment’s pause and vanished further down the corridor. He returned shortly after, clutching his bag.
“Now we are ready to go.” Erdrik declared.
“Do you live here?” Xandar asked as they walked down the stairs.
“Temporarily, until I secure more suitable accommodations.” Erdrik clarified.
Suppressing further queries, Xandar held his tongue as they exited the inn. He waited until they had put sufficient distance between themselves and the building, stealing glances back at the inn’s windows that grew smaller with each step.
“Elderon is hiding something,” Xandar finally said when he was certain they were out of the dark elf’s earshot.
“Again with that?”
“But I have proof this time,”
“Well, then?”
Xandar took a deep breath. “Last night, when I was at the Tipsy Horse, I saw his adventuring party!” He looked up at Erdrik, awaiting his reaction.
Erdrik’s expression remained impassive, “And?”
“But he assured us he had parted ways with his party and decided to join your group.”
“So you’re suggesting he never truly left his party?” Erdrik asked.
“That’s what it seems like. And if that is the case, it could mean his motifs are different from what he claims,” Xandar concluded.
“The presence of his party doesn’t prove anything. They may have simply chosen to stay for their own reasons after parting ways,” Erdrik reasoned.
Xandar had to admit he had failed to consider that possibility.
“Nevertheless,” he persisted, “I find him and his entire story suspicious. And what about that demon yesterday? It couldn’t be mere coincidence that it already knew him. No one delves into the lower planes and befriends demons for any good reasons.”
Erdrik let out his bark-like laugh at that. “Find me a wizard who hasn’t attempted to dabble in the lower planes and I’ll show you a wizard with no ambition!” he chuckled.
Xandar tried to consider Erdrik’s words. Could it be that he had been excessively biased? Dark elves were a rare sight beyond the city of Rovalia, scarce throughout the kingdom, and even the few that resided, or passed by the city managed to turn some heads. Throughout his years of study, Xandar had only encountered two drow students at the university, and he had never crossed paths with them. Elderon had traveled with a party before, comprised of a human, a gnome, even an elf - the real kind. If they willingly chose his company, perhaps it meant that he could be trusted after all. Perhaps it was time to…
“Rovalia isn’t the original name of this town, is it?” Erdrik interrupted his train of thought. Xandar turned and saw his narrow eyes darting from side to side, taking in the street life around them.
“I heard something of the sort,” Xandar lied.
“It was originally named after the capital of Rodsredelle, by the town’s initial settlers who hailed from the neighboring kingdom. But then, after the war, it was renamed Rovalia, in honor of the reigning queen at that time.” Erdrik explained.
“Have you lived here before?” Xandar asked, astonished by Erdrik’s vast knowledge.
“I’ve paid the town a visit in the past, but never made it my home,” Erdrik said, a faint smile lingering on his face as he observed the bustling streets, the vibrant shops, and the diverse array of people - both human and other races - passing by.
“And how long have you been living here?” he suddenly asked, turning to Xandar.
“Oh, me?” Xandar stammered, caught off guard. “I moved here to study five years ago. Thornhill is where I grew up.”
Erdrik appeared surprised. “That’s quite a journey,” he remarked, “Thornhill’s all the way in the south, is it? And a large town too.”
“It is. But it doesn’t have a magic university, and I’ve been hearing about this one for quite some time.” Xandar explained.
They approached the grand university gates, the three dark, daunting structures towering above them. Erdrik’s steps grew slower, his eyes wide with awe as he marveled at the architecture.
“Does each building represent a different school of magic?” he asked.
“Not so much schools of magic as levels of seniority. Thunderwave Hall - that one on the left - is where young students start out, and the middle one is the Wish Chamber. Only senior students can go there,” Xandar explained, pointing at the two two larger buildings. Extending his pointing finger toward the slender tower protruding above the rest, he added, “The library is here, in Truesight Tower.”
“Ah, I see. So I would assume the head office resides there too?” Erdrik mused.
“You assume right,” Xandar confirmed with a nod. “Just up the stairs to the left of the library entrance.”
Erdrik halted in his tracks abruptly. “Go to the library and gather all the books you can find related to languages or other realms. We need to be exhaustive here,” he instructed, “I wish to visit the head office first and will join you shortly.”
The jovial expression had vanished from his face, and he was all business again. Xandar nodded and followed his long, determined strides.
As always, the library greeted Xandar with a comforting, yet dust-laden, silence that tickled his nose. He ventured toward the counter in search of the librarian, only to find it deserted. The library seemed emptier than usual that day.
As he scanned the entry hall, Xandar coughed sight of a familiar figure in the distance. Perched at the pinnacle of an impossibly tall ladder was a wizard, a stack of books levitating beside him on a massive wooden tray. The figure would swiftly examine each tome before placing it carefully on the appropriate place on the shelf. After a while the ladder shifted to the side with a creak, halting momentarily for the wizard to attend to the remaining books.
Xandar crossed the hall in the figure’s direction and reached the ladder just as the wizard atop it began his descent. When his feet aligned with Xandar’s head, the wizard happened to look down.
“Xandar! We meet again!” he exclaimed.
This time Xandar immediately recognized the scrawny, tall wizard with curly hair and spectacles.
“Atli?” he asked, “I thought you were bound for another kingdom?”
Atli reached the bottom of the ladder, skipping the final step and landing in front of Xandar.
“I was, just that in the meanwhile I had an opportunity to work here for a while, you know, to save up a little,” Atli explained, his words tumbling out in a torrent of excitement. “But it’s only temporary, and it gives me time to pursue my own arcane ambitions - my divination practice - which is pretty good, since I found two potential clients. But I guess we’ll see how that goes.”
Xandar nodded, his head spinning as he struggled to keep pace with Atli’s stream of words.
“What about you?” Atli asked.
“I actually joined the wizard group, you know, the one from the pamphlet. It seems like a permanent arrangement so far so I don’t need to look for work all the time,” Xandar said when a thought suddenly occurred to him, “As a matter of fact, perhaps I could introduce you?”
The second thoughts kicked in already as he was uttering the words. Atli’s eccentricities, and his ceaseless torrent of thoughts and ideas that flowed in every direction, were charming in brief encounters. Yet, in the realm of day-to-day interactions, particularly when it came to meaningful work, their compatibility remained uncertain.
But Atli dismissed the notion with a shake of his head, a nervous smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate the thought, truly, but I wouldn’t want to be bound by rigid demands, you know? I want to have time to work on my projects and do things my way, which is why this arrangement is so convenient,” he explained, his hands spreading wide as he gestured towards the shelves brimming with books around them.
“Of course,” Xandar nodded, somewhat relieved.
“So what brings you here? Do you need help?” Atli asked.
“I do, as a matter of fact,” Xandar said, “I’m looking for books on other planes, the lower ones, in particular, as well as anything that has to do with language detection.”
“Other planes.. Other planes…” Atli muttered, turning this way and that. After a moment his gaze fixed upon a distance of the vast hall and he began walking. Xandar hastened to follow. They reached a secluded alcove, hidden from prying eyes. It was draped in darkness. Atli uttered a few words and in an instant, a radiant orb materialized and hovered above them - a glowing beacon amidst the shadows. Visitors were forbidden from conjuring their own sources of light within the library.
“There’s a whole section on lower planes here. Take a look at these while I’ll look for the other books on your list. I’m not too acquainted with languages and translation and all that, so the search might take me a while.” Atli said.
“Thank you, that would be great,” Xandar replied, his eyes already scanning the sleeves before him. “Oh, and should a tall man in a hat come asking about me, you can tell him I am here.”
There were numerous books to go over on the array of shelves, and Xandar began by dividing them into two piles - the ones that held promise, and the ones that failed to catch his wandering gaze. The result was two looming towers and all the more work for Atli. He then proceeded to leaf through the books in the first pile to get a better idea of their content, watching as the tower slowly crumbled.
The books surpassed even Erdrik’s collection, brimming with arcane symbols, otherworldly dialects and powerful invocations. Some of the passages made Xandar’s head feel tingly just from running his eyes over the words. He was so engrossed in his work that he remained oblivious to the approaching footsteps that crept nearer, and when Erdrik turned up from behind him, saying: “Hey there!” he almost leaped from his chair.
“Oh, it’s you..” Xandar exhaled, “How was your visit to the head office?”
Erdrik took a seat beside Xandar, eyeing the tower of books. “It is quite the establishment you have here. And our group will likely need the services of the library quite often, which is why I wanted to introduce myself and ensure an official arrangement was in place.”
He plucked a few books from the towering stack, inspecting them with a knowing gaze.
“They allowed you that?” Xandar blurted, wide-eyed.
“Of course,” Erdrik replied nonchalantly.
“They usually reserve such privileges for past students alone.”
“And now also to myself and the wizards who work for me,” Erdrik announced triumphantly, reaching into his bag to reveal three cards.
Xandar leaned closer to examine the cards, which read ‘Permitted Visitor’. They bore a resemblance to the library cards issued to all new students, yet lacked the customary name and date.
“I’ve never seen this type of card,” he said.
Erdrik smiled smugly. “That’s because they didn’t exist before. These were made specifically for our group’s use. They even bear the university stamp, see? Just in case some librarian decides to challenge us,” he explained.
Erdrik stowed away the cards in his bag and refocused his attention on the books. “Show me what you found,” he said.
“What you’re looking at are the books I’ve set aside in case we don’t find anything useful in these,” Xandar explained, dragging a pile of books over to Erdrik, “And these are the ones I believe will be most beneficial. I’ve gathered tomes on the lower planes, guides to other realms and even some language manuals for good measure.”
“We already possess translation spells, and our understanding of the language’s origin is rock-solid. What we truly need is to pinpoint its specific origin, then decoding it will be within our grasp.” Erdrik pointed out.
“We’re working with assumptions, but we don’t know the exact origin for certain. A demon is not the most reliable source, you’ve said so yourself,” Xandar argued.
“Yes, but we can’t scour everywhere and test every wild theory. We must narrow our focus to what is most probable.” Erdrik insisted.
Xandar shot him a piercing glare, but Erdrik was already too engrossed in examining the books to notice, signaling an end to their debate.
“I’ll go take another look to ensure no stone was left unturned,” Xandar muttered, making his exit.
Xandar wandered the aisle, his eyes scanning the small plaques that aided in categorizing the books by topic. He didn’t want to ask Atli for assistance, fearing the talkative wizard would divert Erdrik’s attention. Moreover, he was fairly confident he knew where to find what he was looking for. He needed books on locks. Enchanted locks, to be precise. Erdrik would have scoffed at the notion, deeming it a waste of their precious time, and convincing him otherwise was a challenge Xandar had no intention of undertaking. Besides, what Xandar pursued in his own time was his secret to keep.
He had found what he was looking for: ‘Magical Wards and Locks’ and was about to depart when another title caught his eye: ‘Protectors of Knowledge: What If The Book Doesn’t Want You To Read It?’
Xandar had to admit that the title intrigued him, though he remained uncertain of the books’ value. After a moment’s contemplation, he snatched up the book along with the original find, dashing towards the front counter in a hasty attempt to borrow them before Erdrik stumbled upon his secret excursion.
As the sun leisurely rolled toward the horizon, they bid farewell to the library. They carried over ten books between them, not counting the two Erdrik had concealed in his bag or the additional pair secretly stashed away by Xandar. Erdrik attempted a levitation spell to lighten their burden, but Xandar explained that library books were shielded by protective wards, preventing any spells that might harm them, or, for that matter, make them more convenient to carry. They ended up having to march back, carrying armfuls of books all the way. By the time they reached their room on the second floor of the Barking Toad inn, Xandar’s arms felt stiff and heavy. Even after he finally dumped the load onto the nearest desk, he struggled to stretch them out fully.
“Did you make any headway in the meantime?” Erdrik asked, looking over at Elderon.
The drow already stood by the desk, absorbed in reading the titles of their newfound treasures. He glanced up sharply when Erdrik spoke.
“I checked for any new spells we might have missed, and gave the ones I did find another twirl, just to be certain, but the results were the same,” Elderon reported.
Erdrik wearily rubbed his forehead. “Very well,” he sighed, “Then I suppose we should call it a day and regroup tomorrow. We’ve got a bounty of new sources to explore.”
“Perhaps I could take one with me and do some late-night reading,” Elderon suggested, his long, slender fingers caressing the cover of the top book on the pile.
“I’d rather not. These books are borrowed under my name, and I’m responsible for their safety,” Erdrik asserted firmly. After a moment, he seemed to remember himself and added more softly, “I appreciate your diligence, but I’d rather keep the books and our work materials here, where I can keep close watch on them.”
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“I understand.” Elderon replied, his voice almost a hiss, but Erdrik seemed not to notice the underlying tension.
Xandar skipped the tavern that night. He made a stop at the grocery where he picked up some dried sausage and cheese. Then, he visited the bakery near the shoemaker’s shop, grabbing a loaf of bread along with a sweet pastry for dessert. Mr Hamnik was hard at work upon his return, leaving Xandar plenty of time to craft sandwiches, brew tea and prepare some sausage for Alberon.
The cat was nowhere to be found when Xandar reached the back entrance of the house, but soon slipped in through the window, rubbing against Xandar’s legs in a short-lived show of affection before darting away from his attempts to pet him. He finally settled down beside his plate, ready to savor the evening meal. Xandar sat at his desk, eating his dinner as he gazed out the window at the darkening sky, letting his mind wander. Later, he conjured a floating orb of light to illuminate the desk and retrieved the borrowed books from the library.
Picking up the ‘Protectors of Knowledge: What If The Book Doesn’t Want You To Read It?’ turned out to be a stroke of genius. The book expanded over the idea of magical locks, focusing on the various protection spells that could be woven into books, then delved into the highly debated area of books with their own consciousness. Xandar read with fascination, and only as the clock ticked well past midnight, weariness finally crept into his bones.
Xandar yawned. He was about to close the book and retreat to his bed when he noticed that he had already reached what appeared to be the last chapter. “What do you think, Alberon, just a couple of pages more?” he mused, peering at the content cat.
But Alberon was already cozily nestled in his bed, offering no response.
Xandar stirred some time later, realizing he had dozed off at his desk. He struggled to recall where he left off in the book but soon noticed that he was just three pages away from its conclusion. Fighting the heaviness in his eyelids, Xandar pressed on.
He finally fell asleep in his bed, his thoughts whirling around him like flies over rotten fruit. In his dreams, the events of the day, along with all the information he had absorbed, merged into images of demonic books offering him tea and biscuits. It was a troubling night, filled with twisting and turning, as well as abrupt, bewildering awakenings. But when he awoke the next morning, earlier than usual, Xandar felt certain that he had the solution to their problem.
Xandar arrived early at the Barking Toad the following morning, eager to try out the new spell he had discovered. He found Erdrik in the main hall of the inn, drinking tea and enjoying a pastry, with several scrolls in front of him that he was reading. He looked up when Xandar came in and raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Up early today, I see,” he grinned, motioning to an empty chair. “Care to join me?”
Xandar remained standing, shifting his weight from one leg to another, still wired from his dash to the inn. “I was actually hoping to get an early start on our work today,” he said, “I have a theory that I would like to explore.”
“What theory is that?” Erdrik asked.
Xandar had anticipated the question.
“I was looking into magical locks on books and found something very interesting - books that have consciousness. It is a form of a lock, where a book is protecting its content from being read.”
Erdrik’s expression was beginning to darken. “We’ve been through this before, haven’t we?”
It took all of Xandar’s willpower to keep his composure, but he withstood the task.
“I know,” he said, taking a deep breath, “But we’ve only been pursuing one line of investigation so far, and we’ve been at it for a while with no results. I also found it a little odd that the demon recognized the letters but not the words. It’s as if the contents were distorted so that he could not comprehend them. Perhaps it is written in abysmal after all, or any other lower plane language, but it is also encrypted.”
Erdrik seemed to consider his words, and Xandar took that as an invitation for him to convince the stubborn man further.
“Besides, it will not take long, and if I am wrong, it will only validate your premise, then we can carry on with the search, knowing we’ve ruled out any other possible explanations to our riddle.” he pressed on.
Erdrik rubbed his forehead. “Alright,” he said at last, “If you’re so sure you know more than me, let’s try it.” He stood up abruptly and gathered his scrolls.
Xandar ignored the sarcasm. He took out ‘Protectors of Knowledge’ as they walked and was leafing through it to find the particular spell that interested him. He was so focused on the task that he tripped and nearly fell face down on the stairs.
It was early morning, and the first rays streamed through the window behind Erdrik’s desk, carrying with them twirling specs of dust.
Erdrik leaned back on his chair, folding his arms in front of him, and in a clearly mocking tone said,
“The stage is yours.”
Xandar had the spell ready before him, having pored over it countless times the previous night until it was nearly etched in his mind. He was just about to utter the first words, when Erdrik stopped him.
“What about the energy source? You’re supposed to create one before casting any spell. It’s in the protocol I’ve written,” Erdrik chided, walking over to Xandar’s desk and pointing at the scroll attached to its surface. “You must cast an energy source using the following spell,” he read, “Just because you’re excited does not mean we can skip the protocol. This spell is unfamiliar to you, and casting it carelessly and just hoping for the best could lead to dire consequences.”
Knowing that arguing would only prolong the lecture, Xandar nodded obediently. He walked to the instructions on his desk and spoke the words, summoning a small, spherical energy source that hovered below the ceiling. He glanced at Erdrik when he was done.
“Good. Now, what’s the next step on the instruction list?” was the response he got.
“But it’s not a summoning spell. Why would I need a circle?” Xandar challenged, tilting his head.
“The circle is for your own protection. And sure, you can try casting the spell without it, and maybe nothing will happen, but it only takes one mispronounced word to summon something not so pleasant. You may take that risk in your own time but I won’t be willing to,” Erdrik insisted. “Besides, the spell you are about to cast might mean something different than what you think.”
This time he did not wait for Xandar to respond. Pointing to the floor, he mumbled a few words, and a pale line of light encircled them before vanishing, leaving a subtle flicker barely noticeable. But Xandar did not need to see it to know it was there; even at its weakest, most basic form, he could feel the energy emanating from the circle.
“There, you see?” Erdrik redirected his attention to the present. “It wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
“Sure,” Xandar agreed. He cleared his throat, scanned the page in front of him to find the spell once more and finally began to recite the words.
The secret society’s magical book lay before Xandar on his desk, and he fixed his gaze upon it intently as he cast the spell. It was a simple test, an attempt to ascertain if the book truly possessed consciousness by reaching out and evoking the simplest of responses.
The room seemed to hush into an eerie silence. Xandar could feel the energy directed at the enchanted book and his entire body tensed with anticipation, straining not to miss anything.
“It appears that-” Erdrik began to speak, but he stopped mid sentence.
There was a shift in the air, something Xandar could feel though it eluded his senses, and he was sure that Erdrik sensed it too.
“I cannot explain it,” he whispered, “But I think the book is looking at us.”
Drawing closer to the desk, Erdrik cautiously extended his hand towards the book’s cover. This time, both wizards unmistakably heard it: a voice, soundless yet profound, speaking in intentions and emotions rather than words. They were simple feelings, sharp, and clearly distinguishable, unencumbered by the complexities of human emotions.
“Is it just me, or did that book just say ‘No’?” Xandar broke the silence, his voice strangely high and tense.
Erdrik took a step back and stood there, studying the book while cupping his square chin with one hand. A long moment of contemplation passed before he spoke again, and when he did, it was in a tone unlike any heard from him before.
“It’s a conscious book!” Erdrik declared, his voice brimming with awe.
He turned to Xandar and the young wizard was surprised to see Erdrik smiling. “It’s a bloody continuous book!” he said again, a chuckle escaping him.
After the grueling and frustrating two days they had endured, it was refreshing to feel like time simply flew by, leaving Xandar pleasantly oblivious to its passage. Erdrik was in high spirits after their discovery that there might have been an alternative reason to their continuous failure to decipher the book, and Xandar was given governance over the new line of research into how to communicate with the tome.
They tried several charm spells which did not work, (“The book might lack sufficient intelligence to be swayed by charm” Erdrik commented.) until at last Xandar came across a spell that could bind the book to a master.
“It appears that there was a bond here before,” Xandar observed, “But I believe we could break it and form a new one.”
“Does that mean that the book can only have one master at a time? We need to explore this as it affects the solution we’ll present to our client.” Erdrik asked.
Xandar was happy for the opportunity to experiment further in order to answer the question.
He first managed to bind the book to himself, which felt strange, as if it were a stray cat, looking at him imploringly. Then, while the book still acknowledged him as its owner, he made an effort to introduce Elderon as its secondary master. If the book had legs, it would have tried to back away, perhaps even whined.
“Let’s try again, with Erdrik this time” Xandar suggested before fully grasping the significance of his own words.
“What are you saying?” Elderon hissed, “That the book dislikes dark elves?”
“No, it’s just that we don’t know the types of... um... individuals it is accustomed to,” Xandar struggled to explain.
It was Erdrik who came to his rescue that time, stating, “It is not a matter of liking; it’s about the spells that were used to lock this book and the rules governing its attachment to someone.”
“You see? It did not work with me either.” Erdrik remarked some time later, after another failed attempt.
“At least it didn’t try to escape this time,” Xandar mumbled to himself.
Eventually, they succeeded in replacing Xandar with Erdrik as the book’s owner, after which Erdrik insisted that while it was interesting to explore how often the owner could be changed, it was better not to push it. They were unsure of the other spells at work, he cautioned, and excessive switching could lead to confusion in the book’s response. Xandar assumed the role of the new, temporary owner, and they soon discovered that, just as he suspected, the book no longer resisted being translated.
“We have two distinct processes here,” Erdrik concluded, “The first involves binding the book to an owner, a procedure that needs only be done once. We will advise the group not to alter ownership frequently. Then, once the book accepts its owner, there’s the second part of translating the language so that the owner can read its contents.”
It really was a lower plane dialect after all, a simple one, which they managed to identify within the few first seconds of opening a portal. Then they got to the interesting part, making the spell available to the user each time they wanted to summon it, without having to cast it by themselves.
“Can we use the energy source?” Elderon asked.
“We can’t entrust it unsupervised at the hands of someone who might not have the ability to contain its power.” Erdrik said, “No, what we’ll do is bind the translating spell to an object that would serve as an energy source so that the user will only need to have this object on their person in order for it to work.”
Erdrik ambled over to his desk and rummaged through his bag until he produced a small pouch, spilling its contents onto the table.
“Rings and amulets are good for this sort of thing,” he explained, “You need a good crystal with sufficient energy, then the spell can run on it while someone is casting it. The user won’t need to know the first thing about magic.”
Although they had discussed a similar concept during their initial meeting, Xandar still listened with fascination. It was not the type of thing one could learn in the confines of a university’s walls. While they did learn about energy - its composition, principles and methods of spellcasting - they only touched upon the theoretical aspects, not the practical applications of everyday magic.
They worked relentlessly, scarcely taking any breaks and completely disregarding food or drink. But as late afternoon approached, they finally completed their task. Xandar was chosen as the test subject, given his existing bond with the book (which, at times, seemed to peer back at him). They agreed to bind the spell to an amulet - its crystal larger and of superior quality compared to the ones on the available rings Erdrik possessed, not to mention, the amulet’s fit was not dependent on how thick the user’s fingers were. It felt oddly heavy when Xandar wore it around his neck.
The book seemed to take notice when he approached it, like a cat awakening from slumber and stretching. With one hand on the amulet, Xandar opened the book, sensing the subtle tingle of magic.
“Teachings of Garnazar The Vile,” he read aloud, “A collection of spells and unspeakable conjurations from the mighty demon Garnazar, written by the archmage Arkanos.”
Xandar looked up to find Elderon standing beside him, so close Xandar could detect the fragrance of herbs emanating from the pouches on his belt.
“We’ll need to test it some more just to be sure that the connection and translation remain uninterrupted, but for now we can confidently declare it a success!” Erdrik’s voice resounded from the other end of the room.
“It truly is!” Xandar exclaimed, “It’s as if I am reading in the common language - the letters just look familiar.”
“That’s how a good translation spell works.” Erdrik boasted, rising from his seat. “Now, I don’t know about you two, but I haven’t eaten a thing since morning. How about we go out, huh? We finally have cause for celebration, and Xandar here, being a local, can show us the best taverns in town.”
“Sounds good to me,” Xandar agreed, turning to Elderon. “How about you?”
The expression on Elderon’s face was nothing less than disappointed. “Shouldn’t we read a little more first? Just to make sure everything works.” he proposed.
“We’ve already demonstrated that Xandar can read the book using the amulet, and the connection remained steady during the entire process,” Erdrik reassured him. “It would be even better to return later and ascertain if the connection endures. Besides, I think we all worked hard on this, a break is well-deserved. We can test extensively tomorrow morning.”
Elderon did not take his eyes off the book. He considered Erdrik’s words for a while and then, his expression brightening instantaneously, declared, “You’re right, let’s go celebrate!”
The sun had already dipped below the horizon as they departed from the Barking Toad, the last splashes of light it left in the sky slowly fading. The streets grew sparser as well, as people hurried to seek shelter from the gathering darkness within the warmth of their homes and inns. Candles flickered to light in house windows, beacons guiding those still outside to return to safety. Inns and taverns were filling up with the chatter of travelers and locals alike, all eager to toast to the triumphs and trials of the day, to share a meal, a laugh, and perhaps a spirited debate with friends, one that would ultimately result in them being kindly asked to leave.
“So, where do the wizards go to unwind?” Erdrik inquired as they strolled along, observing their surroundings with keen interest. Elderon followed behind, his head shrouded beneath the cloak of his hood.
“The Night Owl, but they only go there because it’s cheap and close to the university,” Xandar replied. “If you’re looking for something livelier than a bunch of sulking students, The Tipsy Horse would be a better choice.”
“That one? It’s too loud,” Elderon interjected abruptly, quickening his pace. “What about that one near the herbal shop? I’ve been there before and it seemed pleasant enough.”
Xandar couldn’t help but smile. The Tipsy Horse was where Elderon’s adventuring party lodged, the last he saw them.
“The Pouncing Fox? It’s decent, but Erdrik here wants to experience the lively nights of Rovalia, and there’s no better place for that than The Tipsy Horse,” he insisted, his voice growing louder, issuing a challenge.
Glancing back at Elderon, Xandar added in a hushed tone, “Unless you’re worried you might stumble into unwanted company there?”
Elderon’s face remained obscured within the shadows of his cloak, concealing his response from Xandar, but the dark elf’s tone was unmistakably irritated when he retorted, “I haven’t been here long enough for women to chase me, so I should be alright.”
It was masked as a joke - Erdrik sure took the bait - but Xandar couldn’t miss the veiled warning beneath the apparent playfulness.
The Tipsy Horse began to fill with patrons as they entered, and the lively atmosphere washed over them. Groups of people occupied long tables, their laughter and conversations resonating through the air. Erdrik hurriedly secured a strategic spot that offered both a clear view of the stage and some breathing room.
“Seems there’s no performance tonight,” Erdrik observed, surveying the stage.
“The night is still young; we may yet catch a show later,” Xandar replied casually, but then his tone changed as he turned to the dark elf. “Just a few nights ago a group of gnomes played here, and people were really up on their feet. One seemed strangely familiar, now that I think about it. Much like that gnome in your party.”
Elderon was still hiding under the hood of his cloak, yet the glint of warning in his eyes was unmistakable, illuminated by the flickering candlelight. The tension dissolved when a waitress with a radiant smile and a disheveled apron approached, diverting both wizards’ attention.
“So how is the adventuring life?” Erdrik asked when she left, turning to Elderon, “Where did your travels take you?”
Elderon seemed momentarily distracted, but he quickly focused his attention on Erdrik, his smile laced with sweetness.
“I’ve seen quite a few places in the past three years of adventuring - from the Blue Mountains in the east to the elven villages in the Kamor Forest to the west. We even journeyed to Jasper City in the undersea caverns and worked for the Moonpath university in Windsong, on the coast. We found ourselves in some peculiar locations, I can assure you.” he chuckled, his eyes wandering into the distance. “But now, it’s a comfort to sleep in a warm bed again without having to take nightly guarding shifts.”
Xandar subtly scanned the room while Elderon talked, searching for the rest of the drow’s adventuring party, but his attempts proved fruitless. He turned his focus back to the table.
“Speaking of companions, how does the other elf in your party feel about traveling with you?” Xandar inquired further. “Don’t mean to offend, but I’ve always wondered, you know. Dark elves and… well… bright elves don’t usually see eye to eye.”
Erdrik shot Xandar a wide-eyed glare, but Elderon remained composed. “No offense taken,” he replied pleasantly. “She was cautious at first, as most folks are, but with time she too came to trust me. As for me, I hold no grudges against elves, or any other race, for that matter.”
The waitress whirled by, deftly placing three mugs overflowing with foamy ale on the table before them. Erdrik was quick to raise his glass, eager to lighten the mood.
“Our world is filled with prejudice, isn’t it?” he exclaimed, “But let us toast to overlooking the past and working together, despite our differences, towards a common goal.”
Xandar found Elderon staring at him, his smile triumphant. “To a common goal,” The dark elf echoed, and their mugs clicked together.
Their food arrived shortly after, and between mouthfuls, Erdrik chimed in with tales of his own days of adventuring. Before long he and Elderon were lost in a passionate discussion about monsters, artifacts and the strange places where they had rested their heads.
As they ordered another round of drinks, a young man with a lute took the stage area and began tuning his instrument. Again Xandar’s eyes darted across the room, but Elderon’s companions were nowhere to be found. Erdrik turned his attention to the musician, while Xandar’s gaze hopped from table to table. If Elderon’s party were nearby, their gnome bard surely wouldn’t resist the temptation to join - or perhaps steal - the show.
They listened to a heartfelt song about a man who fell in love with an elven maiden and sought a magical means to extend his life to be with her. However the story took a twist, and the man was tragically transformed into a troll - not the outcome he had hoped for. The ballad ended on a somber note, lamenting the lonely nights he spent as stone, gazing at his elven love from afar.
Xandar signed, while Erdrik appeared unmoved as they turned their backs to the stage and the melancholic bard. To their surprise, new mugs filled with a potent, sweet ale were waiting for them.
“It’s usually livelier than this here,” Xandar remarked. “That group of gnomes I was telling you about never sang anything that depressing... A lively folk they are, the gnomes, don’t you think, Elderon?” He looked meaningfully at Elderon, but the dark elf simply smiled smugly.
“A lively folk indeed,” Elderon replied, raising his mug. “To good people and good times!” he proclaimed.
They all raised their mugs and drank to that, and that was the last thing Xandar could remember from the evening.