Muscoh's library was located next to the port, a single storied brick building that faced the open ocean. A large trading vessel was floating offshore, awaiting the all clear from the port that would allow them to dock. A flock of birds flew overhead, and while The Watcher wanted to akin their cries to that of seagulls, the brown feathered, quadruple winged creatures were nowhere close to their white feathered counterparts.
From his bench, The Watcher pointed up to the birds. “What are they called?” he asked as Clay Barber came walking towards him.
The boy looked to the sky, glancing at the birds. “Northern kuzzards. They must be migrating.”
“Kuzzards? That's a stupid name,” The Watcher replied while getting to his feat.
“I don't want to hear you say that. Your name is 'Watcher'.”
“Hey! Watcher is a coo—” He paused in thought. “You're right, it's kind of stupid. I'm changing my name. I'm McFly from now on.”
“That's even worse.” Clay snipped back.
The two walked through the single wooden door of the library. Inside, the central area was occupied by a single large rectangular table surrounded by chairs. With a quick count, a dozen shelves lined the sides of the table with the entire back wall of the building being a single bookshelf that stretched from one end of the room to the other. The room was gently lit by soft incandescent lambs accompanied by glimmers of light sifting in through the windows. To their immediate right was a small wooden table with a book and an empty chair. A plaque on the table read 'Reception'. The Watcher paused in front of the table.
Clay asked, “What's wrong?”
“I'm just thinking back.”
“You were a librarian when we first met.”
“Yeah. It's been what? Nearly two hundred years for me.”
Clay looked solemnly to the 'Reception' plaque. “It's been nearly that long for us as well.” It was odd hearing the phrase coming from the body of an ten year old, but he thought that was what others opined of him and his thousand year old age.
Soft, gentle clacks of footsteps echoed through the room. The two of them turned to face the inside of the library. Solely from the sound of her steps, they could hear the elegance of the walk behind it. A smooth, almost whisper of a gait without the dragging of feet or clacking of heels. The little girl walked out from behind a book shelf to their right, hugging a black tome as thick as her body. In skirts of pleated red and a cotton shirt of white, she smiled gently when she saw The Watcher, her strawberry blonde hair waving behind her as she approached.
She greeted with a bow. “Hello, Mister Galloway. It's good to see you again.”
“It's good to see you too, Stella.” The Watcher could not help but smile back at the wispy girl. He had almost forgotten how alarmingly eloquent her presence was. Even with the body of a child, Stella Barber continued to hold a poise that transcended centuries.
She nodded back, still with the same gentle smile. She gestured to the long table. “I assume you know why you're here?” She took her steps towards the nearest seat, putting her book down and taking a chair.
“You told Adelaide you knew me. You wanted me to find you.” The Watcher sat beside her.
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Clay left the two to their talks, standing as an uninterested guard at the front door.
Stella replied, “That's right. I would have gone to you, but there's quite a bit of limit on this child body of mine.” She looked down to her chest and patted her undeveloped breasts, Clay giving an awkward cough as she did so.
The Watcher said, “I don't know what you're thinking of right now, but it's probably inappropriate for someone your age.” He raised a discerned brow.
She gave a cheeky grin. “Why? I'm over a hundred and fifty years old.”
“Not physically. It's kind of weird.”
Smiling, she quickly changed topics and held the black book out to the man. “This tome contains a compilation of all the information in this world that I think would be useful for you. Information on countries, politics, flora and faunas, culture, technology, and a few major mythos.”
“And the Rifts? These portals that The Forum are attempting to make? Anything on them?”
“Yes.” She flipped opened the book on memory, landing onto the chapter on Rifts. “Muscoh's a trade port, so we've got books from Aleynonlia that comes in with information about Rifts. These portals we deal with are a new phenomenon here, and no one aside from me, my brother, and Joshua knows how they works. Because, you know, we used to be gods and all that.”
“It isn't like you to brag.”
She replied, “Honestly, I'm not. I'm just being direct.”
“Okay, fine. But back on the point of it...” he egged.
“Back on the point,” she continued. “Normal Rifts, like the gateways that Aleynonlia employs have a thin layer of pure energy at the entrances. They protect most of the physical energy of one universe from leaking into the others. Imagine a bubble, and if we put a finger through the bubble, the surface tension continues to wrap around it that prevents air from leaking out.”
“Like a bubble?” The Watcher repeated for clarity.
“Like a bubble,” Stella confirmed.
He still found it a little disconcerting, looking at these century old adults in children bodies. It was as if their physical movement and speech were not exactly matching with their thoughts and youthful expression.
Stella moved on to explaining the portals. “These portals though are more like having a straw poked through them. The rest of the bubble's still intact, but the air inside it can still leak out. The Earth that we came from didn't have any seither, so when one bubble was connected to the other, the seither leaked as the universes tried to balance the amount.”
They recalled the crisis that the leaking seither had caused. Since not a single human had evolved enough tolerance against the energy, billions of people died from poisoning amongst other calamitous events. Earth, over the course of two hundred years, became a wasteland, with humans barely surviving. All because two portals appeared over the two centuries.
From the door, Clay chimed, “But we stopped it, didn't we?”
“We did,” Stella confirmed. “But I think the first time we did it, we simply got lucky.”
The Watcher asked, “How so?”
She explained, “In researching all this, I've found out that to close the portals, we need to do so from both sides, otherwise, we're just cutting the straw short and the path will eventually reopen itself.”
“So who closed the portal on this side?”
Stella noted, “You did. Remember?”
The pieces fell into place within his mind almost immediately. Akaras Spaedruiner had manipulated events to force the portal to open faster, attempting to turn the experiment into a weapon of mass destruction. It also coincided with the first portal opening in their universe. He had taken out the dark elf, who had been powering the portal machine with his electrical spells, inadvertently shutting down the gate from Tearha. He had gotten lucky. But there had been two portal phenomenons on Gaia, which meant the second one was either underway, or had not started yet.
A second portal that he had to stop.
The Watcher stood from his seat with Stella watching him with a smile. She said, “I wish I can help more.” The girl got to her feet. Facing the older man, she continued, “But I promised my brother this would be the last time.”
“I understand,” The Watcher replied. She hugged him, and he gently padded her small back. “You've already done more than enough. All of you.” He looked to Clay with a smile. The boy acknowledged the silent thanks with a nod.
He left the siblings alone to the quiet peace of the library, stepping out into the afternoon light with Stella's lexicon of a book in hand. The Twin stars glared down from the sky with another flock of kuzzards cutting through a cloud in formation. The ship that had been anchored out at sea had started making its way into the port, sails unfurled against the wind.
The sound of children laughter caught his attention. Looking down the streets, a girl in a white dress ran across the road, her long, light golden-brown hair dancing behind. Following closely, a young boy, hair red and messy, dressed in an oddly paired set of grey pants and green shirt, dashed after her, a smile on their faces as they played their game of cat and mouse. The pair disappeared around a corner as they ran towards the town's centre, their laughs and yelps of joy echoing across the dock. A man walked calmly and slowly after them. Golden haired and comfortably dressed in white, his wife, a red headed woman followed by his side. The familiar man turned and gave The Watcher a glance. The man nodded with a smile.
The Watcher gave a small wave back.
The couple continued their walk after the playful kids.
The time traveller felt his hands clenching into fists. Though he had more answers than before, he was still not fully certain of what was happening within the country, and was unsure of the actual threat that they were facing. But he thought that he owed these smiling people something. He owed them an earnest effort to protect their happiness. And it was a due he desperately wanted to pay.