Time calms my heart. Still taking in Diabella’s words, I wander through the greenhouse. It doesn’t take long for me to follow the greenery outward to a large field. Tall grass grows wildly across it and trees wide and embracing create shade and privacy. Around the field are the castle’s structures. Walls and towers dotting its edges. Nature and civilisation co-existing in its own strange way.

After walking through the field I find the pool Diabella spoke of. A lake, swimming with fish that glitter unnatural splashes of colour. At least unnatural to my senses with their bright scales and glowing spots. Around the lake are bushes of what I can only describe as large, multi-hued grapes. Mushrooms too, and other things I’m unfamiliar with. The natural bounty of the land leads to a picturesque atmosphere.

Digging into one of the grapes nearby I’m greeted with a sweet burst of flavour. It is really filling. Looking beyond the lake, to the left and in its own space, a much larger tower than the previous one I spotted stands tall. Diabella’s I could only assume. A bit further to the right side of the lake stands one last tower, short and straight as the first one.

Walking a little beyond the pool I find myself in front of the castle’s tall gate. The gate has gaps between its steel teeth that cut into the ground. Through them I can see outside of the walls. The lake trickles into a tiny river that extends past the gate. The green extends a short way outside before cutting off suddenly to the ash-ridden ground. A clear line is drawn between what is living, and what is not. A striking contrast.

It takes me a moment before I notice Sera beside me. Floating above the ground, she waits patiently as I observe the world around me. After noticing my look she inclines her head.

“Can you take me to Viscount?” I ask, to which she assents. Sera gestures toward the gate. At her movement it starts to open, like the extended jaws of a beast receding back into its mouth. Sera leads me out.

I follow quietly behind her, observing the dead land around me. It feels different being on the other side. But not so different. It’s all still dead. Empty. It doesn’t take long to walk to Viscount. He’s a short step beside the castle, having grown large and tall. Some of his longer branches extend over the castle.

When I step under the tree a familiar vine, or more accurately root, greets me. I smile and reach over to take hold of it, closing my eyes as I feel his emotions wash over me. I hear his happiness and concern.

“Thank you my friend.” I say, to which his branches shake in response. Viscount is truly striking as a tree. He stands as a giant; his body dyed a deep purple. Numerous spikes litter across him sharpened to a point, and his bark is jagged and thick. He looks menacing from the outside.

Inside he is proverbially wagging his tail, much to my amusement. I spend some time with Viscount assuring him I’m fine while Sera stands beside me. Her distance is comfortable, but guarded. Though I had no intention of running. After a short interlude I say goodbye and we head back inside.

After returning to the castle the gate rumbles and closes behind us. “The library is this way.” Sera says quietly, leading me away. She stops part of the way as she nods to Diabella’s tower. “That is my Lady’s personal space. You’re not to go near there.” Her eyes turn sharply on mine as she accentuates her command. “Understood?” I swallow a little and give her a nod.

The atmosphere is stifling as Sera stares at me until she’s satisfied. Once we continue moving I soon find myself at the far tower, beyond Diabella’s own. Entering I’m confronted with a very extensive library.

Each of the towers three floors are filled with wide, curved bookshelves full of books with no rhyme or order. Tables and chairs rest in different spots on each floor in its wider spaces, and lanterns flicker on their founts as they light up the rooms with subtle luminescence.

As I move across the floors I ruffle through the books for a bit. I know I can understand the language the books are written in, but with how abstract their writing is it feels utterly alien. I quietly close the books and my interest, deciding it’s better to ask for help.

Descending back down the tower to the first floor I find Sera there waiting for me. I almost reach out to her emotions but quickly stifle the thought. I’d been doing my best to refrain from feeling Sera’s emotions, though I suspect she would have a barrier protecting them much like everyone else in the castle. It’s hard to fight what has become instinct for me.

“Brand,” Sera nods to the table next to her. Her mannerisms and tone are stiff, but not unpleasant. I turn to the table and see three books resting on it. “Lady Diabella has asked of me to provide you with some books that will help you get an understanding of things. She…unnecessarily apologises that she is too busy to do so herself.” A little colder, her words amusing to me. The unnecessary part was definitely added but I wisely chose not to comment on it. Before Sera can turn to leave I call out to her.

“Thank you.” Sera pauses for a moment as her eyes regard me. Then a little sigh escapes her and she turns away.

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“You’re welcome.” No other words, or explanations, are offered. I turn to the three books sitting on the table and sit facing them. Their names quickly reveal themselves. The Simplicity of Magic. The Pursuit of Finer Things. Where The Hell Am I And Why Should I Care?. The last one almost makes me laugh out loud. Still I open it first with interest.

It is a thin book and true to its name gives you an understand of where the hell you are and why it should matter to you. Or, in its own words, each major location has its own governing race built on its own, mostly unique, culture. To not understand where you are is to risk doing something that leads to very bad consequences. The author claims this is from personal experience, but quite wisely doesn’t mention what those personal experiences are.

It doesn’t cover everything, and neither every race or place, but it is enough to give me a sense of my location and the places around me. I learn of the place I am in. Tearvael. Governed by humans, it speaks of a grand and prosperous continent. A monarchy that built a kingdom and cities where many different cultures crossed paths and lived together. The words were full of admiration, or perhaps made to be. It also spoke of it in the present tense. Which speaks of the books age.

With Tearvael at its centre, the book continues to talk about the places that surround it. It’s interesting. Far more interesting than I expected, and I quickly find myself absorbed into its explanations.

The continent to their left holds two dominating peoples. The Kunari and the Free People. The Kunari are a collection of beast-races, evolved from animals similar to the way humans adapted. They still hold a close physical presence to their ancestry. At its head they are led by the Sareth, having evolved from foxes, who are a matriarchal race. They are a very united people who value familial ties deeply.

Then there are the Free People, a collection of enlightened animal races. The book has its own opinions on how this came about. All things have magic and all magic leads to individuality. Animals that become powerful enough gain their own sense of self, and instinct then turns to choice. That is how the author believes the Free People began and continue.

Closer to the top left of Tearvael is a mostly unknown continent considered ‘wild’. The book fails to mention anything further beyond that it is rarely explored, and not understood by the common populace.

Then below Tearvael is a long but narrow strip of land. Enterra’s Scar the book calls it. A land that is impossible to tame. It holds a smattering of small tribes of all different races and strokes of life. The natives consider themselves nomadic, wandering across the land each time their settlement is disturbed. It’s written as a tough place to live.

Following the ocean upward from there, to the right of Tearvael, is a collection of islands small and large that form their own archipelago. It is a dangerous place that holds many unknowns with islands being able to change overnight without rhyme or reason. There are rumours of races inside that can be traded with. But they remain rumours according to the book.

And then it speaks of a mysterious and prosperous race above this archipelago, covering a small continent. The Faeric. There are a lot of myths surrounding this people. Some myths speak of their ability to peek into the future. Others of their ancestral rituals that bring down the power of deities. Rumours of course, according to the author. Fanciful rumours. But still rumours.

The book drags on a bit here, almost making me put it down until it mentions something that captures my attention. Directly at its end, as if the statement is something obvious, it writes one last line. This is as far north as the known world goes. The Wall cuts off anything beyond these edges. Hopefully forever. The words ignite my curiosity. But with nothing more to go on I’m forced to close the book and bury them.

My eyes naturally turn to the second book, but I hesitate in opening it. The Simplicity of Magic. The memory of touching the skeleton’s emotions comes unbidden. Magic seems wondrous until it wounds, and festers, and cruelly maims. The feeling of sickness that took me is hard to describe. It’s like having all of the worst things you can think of shoved into you in a sticky mess that refuses to let go. It is hard to consider taking that on again.

My eyes briefly glance at the final book. The Pursuit of Finer Things. I open the covers briefly, but finding myself unable to focus. I can only give up on the reading session. I move the book aways and push myself onto my feet, the air outside seeming far more inviting.

Stumbling a bit I quickly exit the building. My eyes gaze on the lush grass in front of me and my emotions settle a little. The sky has darkened since I began reading, and the twin moons shined their cold light on the scenery. As my feet make a path in the long patches of grass I hear the little flickers of wildlife close to me. Small and sparse, but still there. A tiny piece of life thriving amidst death and decay. I close my eyes and let the peaceful moment wash over me.

Then another sound cuts above the ambiance. A muffled scream. It pierces into me as a flicker of emotion splashes colour across my mind. And I find myself staring at Diabella’s large tower in front of me. My mind freezes and the previous calm disappears like a dream. I stare at the door in front of me. Its cold stone uninviting. After a brief hesitation I step closer, almost touching the tower.

Pain. I recoil in shock as it pierces through me. Like a knife cutting through someone’s heart, only deeper. More personal. As if a piece of who they are is being shaved away inch by inch. I stumble away but the pain follows me.

Each flicker of emotion digs into me farther. I drop to the ground with a stifled groan. My hands claw into the grass. Blood mixes with dirt as I desperately try to drown out the pain. But it never relents. Its screams eat into me. Tortured and desperate. And more than anything, exhausted.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Sera’s cold voice pierces into me. My mind is hazy as I turn a little to the side and see her looking at me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I expected her to be angry. But as she looks at the state I’m in, there’s only sympathy.

“Come.” Sera continues as she takes hold of my hand. A coldness seeps into me from the contact and my head clears a little. “This does not involve you.” There is a finality in her words. I find myself stumbling along behind her. The pain, ever so slowly, abates as I get farther away.

Until finally Sera brings me to my room, and gently lays me onto my bed. As I lay down the pain starts to disappear, and my mind dims. I try to say something but words fail me. I can only look at Sera for a moment. Terrified. Lost. Before sleep takes me.