Asemo seemed rather miffed by how everything had turned out but did not speak of it as they left. The first concocter did not come to see them out. Even so, the second librarian tried to keep up a positive outlook and remained generally cheerful.
“I wonder, would you prefer to see the sights? Or is there somewhere else you wish to go?”
“Maps would be convenient,“ Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “Or information about near and far places in general.”
“Then my library would be the perfect place to visit,” Asemo nodded.
“I think you mentioned something about ‘Spearsingers’ before?” Alice broached.
“Resolved alongside my urgent summons,” the librarian explained, beginning to lead the way as someone who barely needed to look to navigate the complex city levels. “It had to do with my visit to the desert.”
“You were gone for a more specific reason than to just observe monster migration, I presume?” Irwyn asked, hoping for an elaboration.
“Well, that depends on your perspective. It was indeed just migration patterns of certain monsters over the past few months that have raised worry. Namely, an unusual increase in their movements,” clearly it was not a secret. “I was picked to investigate.”
“A librarian against monsters?” Elizabeth frowned. “No insult but that seems like a horrible match.”
“I was hardly going to fight them,” the woman gestured something. “No, I was comparing old records, matching known behaviors, and then forming a proper hypothesis of what is happening. Contemplating all the logistics of monster migration is hardly a work for fighters.”
“Doesn’t sound all that complicated,” Waylan spoke up, playing the fool. “They move and eat whatever doesn’t.”
“If only,” Asemo sighed. “Why does an apex predator migrate? Either, it has run out of prey or an even stronger creature forced it to move. It can be impossible to determine which. Then, more importantly, this begins to cascade. You see, the first apex predator left its original territory, but then it has to go somewhere else. Usually this ‘somewhere else’ is where it will be at the very top again. Rarely they might find a place with no competition for prey… but more often than not there will be other predators where they end up – but possibly weaker ones. And of course, if those are driven out…”
“...It just repeats,” Irwyn finished for her. “Biggest predators driving out the big that drive out the normal that drive out the small. But there has to be a limit.”
“Of course, we eventually get to a line between predators and scavengers and such but that is not the important part,” Asemo gestured in agreement, Irwyn recognised. “What matters is that before you know it, this entire thing can turn into thousands of monster species migrating through the vast caverns that lie beneath our sands, then emerging in all new places on the surface.”
“Are you afraid of some kind of tide sweeping through the city?” Elizabeth guessed.
“No, fleeing hordes will at most try us and then give up when they realize the thickness of our walls,” the librarian explained. “What we are actually afraid of are rock eaters and other prolific diggers. Sometimes even the hunted decide the new predators are too dangerous and also migrate. That includes petravores that could mine under the city and through the mountain until the very foundations collapse beneath us.”
“Is that likely?” Irwyn wondered.
“No, but it is possible. The City of Statues had been destroyed that way 43 years ago. An abyssal pit opened beneath it and the whole city sank - there are many recorded first-hand accounts if you are interested. The Spearsingers are tasked with culling monster threats but they are not great at gathering information. That task went to me. And I have accomplished it exceptionally well!”
“So, is this mountain on the menu?” Alice grinned slightly.
“No, but some more dangerous creatures encroach on our trade routes,” Asemo said. “I will have to go on a similar journey once the migration wave settles just in case but for now things are not too troublesome.”
“You have also not said whether it was a new predator or hunger that triggered all of it,” Irwyn reminded.
“I cannot possibly know,” Asemo shook her head. “New monsters appear all the time out in the wild, far, far away from the cities. A species could have been around for decades or days before causing this stir. All I was able to pinpoint is that the source seems to be roughly to the North.”
“Something to keep in mind, I suppose,” Elizabeth acknowledged. They were intending to head that way after all.
The conversation afterward was mostly idle chatter as Asemo led them upwards and then further up through the city. They took three separate elevators and many stairways while the streets became increasingly less populated. The level with the Concocter’s Association was by no means packed but there were people still going by to and fro. Laborers carrying goods, people shopping, or just traveling. But the upper floors felt… empty.
Sometimes they were the only people on the same level as far as the eye could see. There were no more hanging farms around them and buildings grew scarcer. But everything also became more luxurious. Houses - or rather villas - took up much of the floor space rather than being built more into the mountain. The streets were clean, to the point that no sand was visible in many places. The height between each level also increased and they were not as evenly placed next to each other.
Aseno’s territory was built at what Irwyn guessed must have been about three-quarters of the way to the top, though when he looked up he mostly saw individual buildings rather than proper streets further up. The library actually did look quite majestic as someone had turned the entire front into a large mural.
It depicted merchants, scholars, and craftsmen at their best, oftentimes prominently showing off those triangular coins changing hands. It was not just one scene but almost like a collage of various things associated with prosperity and Prosperity, flowing into one another. Statues were also placed around the small-ish terrace dedicated to the library. Some of those were still portraying Prosperity but many were clearly soldiers or warriors wielding weapons - mostly bone spears it seemed. Those were likely aimed at the Skyhunter.
The words “In knowledge, all prosper” was carved above the large double doors leading inside. They immediately encountered a counter upon entry, kept by the ‘160th scribe’, which in itself was strange as Asemo knew the exact number from the top of her head. The man, however, simply greeted them deferentially and clearly was not going to contradict his boss who walked the group inside. There Irwyn got a completely new gut punch of culture shock.
“These are tablets,” Elizabeth noted, looking at the rock shelves in the very first room they walked into. Floor to ceiling, carved stones were stacked next to each other. Neatly arranged.
“Yes?” Asemo said as if there was nothing strange with that.
“I think I speak for all of us when I say we have been imagining a library of books,” Irwyn spoke up.
“Ah, we certainly have ‘proper’ books further in,” Asemo assured. “But the tablet is a time-honored medium. It is exceptionally potent at retaining shorter anecdotes or important wisdoms. Leather is too precious to spend on so many copies.”
“What is the indexing system,” Irwyn approached one curiously. There were numbers and letters etched into the side of each but interpreting them would be difficult without knowing any context.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“The first number is the room this should be stored in - some of them might have had that scratched off and replaced, which means they have been moved around. The letters after that speak about all the topic categories. After that is usually a title.”
“There are only numbers and random words instead of names here,” Waylan noted, looking at one himself.
“No, the word is always in the middle,” Irwyn said. There was ‘1’ on all of them since they were in room numbered as such and he did not bother puzzling over the category letters. The ‘title’ though, felt like it would be easier to decipher. “73 Goldlocks 19:5, or 42 Tongue 2:1-3, and such. Not sure what it means.”
“It’s because this chamber is built around testimonies,” Asemo said. “The first number is the year, followed by the name of who spoke it, then the number of the exact testament and paragraph. It is simply how their titles are noted.”
“Those are names?” Elizabeth questioned with a slight frown. “Who would call themselves ‘Tongue’?”
“The Chosen give up much in their service,” Asemo did not seem to find it strange at all. “An abandoned name is the least of the burdens they bear for all of us. Prosperity always picks for them a fitting more fitting monicker in exchange. Tongue was known to convince those he spoke to of anything he wished, be they allies or foes.”
Curious, Irwyn reached for one. The one with Goldlocks he had read out earlier - that word had been mentioned at some point, he was mostly sure, though he had not realized it was meant to be a name at the time. The stone was surprisingly light and not too difficult to hold. He could probably do it fine with one hand, though he used both rather than needlessly risk dropping it. The letters were very large and thus easily legible, spelling out what amounted to a quote. He read:
“A failure becomes only such upon a conclusion. One has only succumbed the moment they cease pursuing a reversal. In adversity, opportunity hides. In desperation, inspiration thrives.”
“Goldlocks is ever an inspiration,” Asemo commented with clear approval. “Her life’s story is that of overcoming great burdens and destitute beginnings before achieving the august status of a Chosen. She reminds us all that the worthy will rise.”
Irwyn had his reservations about that and from Waylan’s shuffling his friend had far more. Neither of them spoke though. They charged for water - as the sneak had noted. How does one rise if they cannot afford to drink? Irwyn had gone through lean times but Old Crow had always made sure there would at least be something to eat, even when the Tears went through periods of disastrously scarce hauls. But a person needed to drink a lot more often than eat… and a bucket was harder to nab than a loaf. Irwyn had no doubt there was a thick underbelly of poverty in the City. Every city had the less fortunate and their short walk through the city by the mountain’s foot implied it was hardly thin.
“I am sure there is much wisdom in this room but I had hoped for maps,” Elizabeth said.
“Of course, this way,” Asemo did not deny here as she led them further inside.
Irwyn quickly realized that besides being a library it was also a bit of a labyrinth. There was nothing resembling a map of the compound placed anywhere. Rooms were of different sizes and asymmetrical, meaning that they were also of different lengths - and while numbered those numbers were seemingly applied at random with three and one digits being next to each other at least twice. That was without mentioning the crossroads, unnumbered reading chambers, and the need to walk through some rooms rather than sticking to paths leading in between. There were also at least several floors given they had walked up the stairs twice and down once, Irwyn hoped at least those were of the same height.
“Room 837, geography,” Asemo finally announced after no less than four minutes of a fast-paced walk from the entrance. Irwyn was pretty sure he could find his way back - a lot of practice for that back in Ebon Respite - but the library had been built by a sadist or a drunk, likely both.
The room itself was circular with scroll shelves on all sides. There was a large table in the middle with cushioned chairs as well as two easels - Irwyn was proud of knowing the word - to hold up any of the maps. Unlike the tablet-filled room, this one contained almost exclusively leather scrolls but there were a few bound books in one section.
“Are there actually over 800 rooms?” Alice was doubtful. “I noticed there is a disproportionate quantity of rooms market with a ‘7’. That tends to happen when people are trying to fake random numbers - most subconsciously choose it more often.”
“There are 163 as far as I am aware,” Asemo confessed easily. “The founder of this library had been… excentric. But while strange, it is wholly functional. Newcomers get used to it within the first month of work so it’s not worth the effort of remaking all of our ledgers with new numbers.”
“I was wondering if there was a room for the history of other gods,” Waylan, surprisingly, spoke up. “Old ones, or those so far away as to not be rivals of Prosperity.”
Irwyn resisted the urge to stare. Waylan and books. He had thought his friend would either split away before they reached the library or sneak into some kind of restricted room to rearrange every tome there in a way that would imply the most innuendos possible with their titles placed in a row.
“Foreign and dead deities,” Asemo nodded. "We actually passed it along the way. Room 777.”
“Mind if I…?” Waylan said.
“Go right ahead, that is what the public library is for,” Asemo smiled. “Just be careful not to damage anything.”
“Mind if I…?” Alice immediately copied Waylan, looking at Elizabeth instead.
“I obviously need your help,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You will have a better intuition for relative distances than me.”
“Work it is,” Alice pretended to deflate, then stepped towards Elizabeth who was already perusing one of the shelves.
“And what would you fancy?” Asemo asked Irwyn who found himself suddenly alone. Sure, he could maybe help with the maps… but he couldn’t take notes and the girls would likely have it in hand. He was more interested in landmarks and their histories rather than where precisely they stood. Speaking of history, Irwyn had a thought.
“Do you have a section about the history of this City?” he asked. “How it was founded and such.”
“The City of Terraces, room 3,” Asemo smiled. “Do you need help getting all the way back to the entrance? The first five are actually right by it.”
“Please,” he nodded. Whether he needed it or not… it would not be bad for Elizabeth to have some privacy with the travel plans she was undoubtedly scheming.
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The city’s history was… not that exciting. A lot of legends that sounded more like propaganda than accounts, which put everything else in doubt. Lot of talking about endless prosperity and Prosperity’s majesty, very little on real problems ever plaguing the city. He did manage to gather a few useful things at least. Firstly, the city was only 50ish years old. And he had confirmed the whole calendar they kept only spanned 76 years, though referred to several events with a negative date. The year zero was, perhaps predictably, Prosperity’s apotheosis. The circumstances of which were very thick on praises and scarce on details.
The union with the Skyhunter was always dated year 56, so 20 years before the present day. There was a little more to that at least: The god had once been a Chosen of his own predecessor, the Heavenlash. Said older god had apparently been decaying with waning worship and catatonic, to the point his Chosen would openly create personal cults among other followers. The Skyhunter had slain or subjugated all of his rivals before challenging his liege deity to a battle that ‘sundered the very skies’. Irwyn was not sure about the veracity of the accounts on the last part… but would keep in mind that usurping gods might be possible.
They all reconvened after an hour. Everyone seemed reasonably happy with the time spent – even Waylan, which hopefully did not mean any missing irreplaceable books – though sharing exactly what they had found would have to wait for later. It was getting later into the day and nearly evening and Asemo was rather excited to tell them about the arrangements she had made.
“The Wind’s Cradle is the finest guest mansion in the City of Terraces, such is undisputed,” she informed them as they headed even further up. “Oftentimes it is inhabited by visiting Chosen! However, I have been able to arrange for you to stay for at least a week. It is the least I could do.”
“I see, that is kind of you,” Elizabeth smiled lightly. The ‘generosity’ felt a lot less genuine with their knowledge that Asemo held ulterior motives… and that she would not get what she wanted. Irwyn was certainly not looking for a god, much less the first one they stumbled upon.
Soon enough, they were nearing the peak and working quite a sweat. No elevators were around that high up. Not many people either. They had actually not seen a single soul since departing the library. Perhaps they just didn’t fancy walking outside because of the wind - it had gotten quite potent that high up. Then they began to hear the music.
It was a whisper at first, getting louder with each step. Soon enough it grew distinguishable as a kind of disorganized orchestra. There were clearly many instruments and they each played a song of their own. Somehow, it still sounded good, just… random. Like if 30 competent musicians were handed an instrument and told to play their best while ignoring each other. Or perhaps that analogy did not work - Irwyn wouldn’t know if that would actually sound nearly as pleasant as what he was hearing.
The building only came into view when they reached its level from below as it had been hidden by sideways stairs beforehand. Irwyn ignored the statues and wide empty terrace around it, instead focusing on the structure itself. It was seated maybe one tenth beneath the mountain's very peak but close enough one could literally see the actual apex through a large circle literally built into the guest house. It was clearly intentional, half of it was a hole going through the top floors of the building while the rest of the circle stretched above it in a thick arc.
And in that circle, there were smaller gaps, leading through it and then to the side where something akin to instruments had been carved. Horns and trumpets and every kind of such musical device - most of which Irwyn could not even name. Two dozen at least, possibly more out of sight. As the wind blew through the circle they each sang, shifting with the tempest’s whims.
“Welcome to the Wind’s Cradle.”