“One moment,” Eresthanon said seriously. “Before we begin, I’d like to clear the air.”
“By all means,” Barrett said.
Eresthanon let his eyelids droop until they were almost fully closed. He took a deep breath and allowed his aura to expand, filling the room. He felt the edges of himself soften and blur, a sense of thinness descending as he allowed himself to become less corporeal. He’d known he was capable of this as soon as the woman, Alice, had entered the room. He hadn’t known exactly what it would feel like.
He also found, with a little further consideration, that he wasn’t sure what else he might be able to accomplish through manipulating his aura and essence. He clearly had some degree of skill in the craft, as some elves did, but the extent of his mastery was still shrouded by the Rite of Renewal. Something to keep in mind for his own pursuits.
As soon as his essence had spread sufficiently to the space around, he let his will crystallize, suffusing the aether in the room with his own intent. It was a kind of magic elves and a few other Creaturae could perform, though its practical applications were quite limited.
In this case, he just had to hope his efforts wouldn’t cause offense; he was in no mood to play word games with a fae to avoid the implication of a debt. That kind of thing could escalate all too quickly if you let it.
It had taken only a few seconds for the process to be complete. As soon as it was done, the room filled with the sounds of three people gasping. When Eresthanon opened his eyes fully and looked around, he saw astonishment on each of their faces.
“What did you do?” the woman, Alice, asked breathlessly.
The question wasn’t aggressive or accusatory, but Eresthanon had trouble picking out just what emotions the young woman was experiencing. Whatever her feelings, they were complex and powerful. If he didn’t know better — especially when it came to the fae and their enchantments — he’d have almost called it relief.
“As we are here on official business, I deemed it prudent to dispel your glamour in order to avoid any question of undue influence or preferential treatment,” Eresthanon replied. “I trust the Drakon wouldn’t want any questions of manipulation overshadowing anything we might discuss here today.”
Alice leaned forward, her arms resting on the conference table. “You can do that? Just… turn it off?”
“Many elves can,” Eresthanon said, raising an eyebrow.
This interaction was not going at all how he had envisioned it. What fae wouldn’t know the presence of an elf could ruin their games? Didn’t the old song warn, ‘Sharp ears beget sharper eyes, in elfin vale ‘ware iron knives?’
“Is it… permanent?” Alice asked.
Again, one of Eresthanon’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead. He was obviously missing something here, but he had no idea what it was. Worse, he was struggling to think of a way to approach the topic directly that wouldn’t cause offense. Better, then, to be somewhat circumspect.
“No, as with any other fae charm, the suppression will last only so long as I remain present and my intent is unchanged,” Eresthanon said.
Aaliyah, Alice, and Barrett each exchanged glances. Eresthanon was once more reminded that there was something going on here he didn’t understand. Many things, as it happened, but this one was new.
“Fae charm?” Alice asked hesitantly.
It occurred to Eresthanon, at that point, that either he had misread the situation completely or gleaned something about this young woman that even she was unaware of. There were a number of possibilities; narrowing it down would be an exercise in frustration if they kept talking around each other. Eresthanon had to reverse course before this meeting turned into a Vaudeville act. He needed to be direct, but delicate. A narrow path to walk.
“I gather from your reactions that you’re aware of the glamour but not that it was fairy in nature,” Eresthanon said. “Do I understand the situation correctly?”
“It’s wild magic,” Alice said. “I did it when I was young, before I knew anything about, well, anything.”
“Under anyone’s guidance? Or perhaps you made an offering or a deal to some name you found in an old book? Something on druidic magic, maybe?” Eresthanon asked.
“All the druids were men,” Alice said. “But no, it was nothing like that. I just kind of put together a hedge spell and… it worked. It worked too well, honestly. I can’t turn it off and I’ve only found one way to even moderately reduce the effects.”
Aaliyah cleared her throat. “A mystery for another time,” she interjected, and none too kindly.
Alice’s eyes dropped to the table as something unspoken passed between the two women.
“Yes, well, setting aside the bandruí and the intriguing mystery of Alice’s glamour, perhaps we should focus on the task at hand,” Eresthanon said. “We are hoping you can give us information on a book called The Sleeping Dragon. As much as you’re able to tell us; you never know what might be useful.”
“Has it been recovered?” Alice asked, perking up with remarkable speed and zeal.
“It’s an ongoing investigation,” Aaliyah said, “so we can’t say much, obviously, but we’d like to hear what you have to say about it.”
“Uh, right, okay,” Alice said, taking a breath to get her bearings. “The Sleeping Dragon is a book of magic. It was stolen from us in the mid-18th century in Europe.”
“Yeah no, we’re gonna need you to be a lot more specific than that,” Aaliyah groused.
“Superficial stuff first, then, which I think I can handle,” Barrett said. “One of our holdings was attacked in late August 1756. They took a few books, a handful of artifacts, and The Sleeping Dragon, which was probably their primary goal. We never found out who was responsible.”
“Do you happen to know the exact date in August?” Eresthanon asked.
Barrett regarded Eresthanon with pursed lips for a moment before answering. “It was the 30th of August, 1756. In Saxony.”
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“Naturally,” Eresthanon said with a nod of thanks. “I assume there was violence involved in the theft?”
“There was,” Barrett acknowledged.
“Fatalities?” Aaliyah asked pointedly.
“Several,” the drakus replied with a shrug.
“Which, I’m guessing, the Drakon never reported,” Aaliyah concluded, frowning at the older man.
Again, Barrett shrugged. Disapproval radiated off Aaliyah, so Eresthanon decided to move the interview along as best as he could.
“Would you tell us the contents of this grimoire?” he asked.
Before Alice could answer, Barrett placed one hand atop hers to forestall a response. At the edge of Eresthanon’s vision, he saw one of Aaliyah’s eyes twitch.
“Perhaps we can give you some idea of the contents of that book,” the older drakus said. “If you’ll tell us why it’s suddenly so important to the Vigiles Creaturae.”
“This ain’t a negotiation, old man,” Aaliyah spat.
Barrett smiled at the Quaesitor. There was more than a little sadness in the smile, Eresthanon thought.
“Perhaps not,” Barret said. “But the theft of a book doesn’t constitute a violation of any of the Pillars, so there’s even less obligation on us than normal to offer up private information.”
The drakus made a strong point. The Vigiles Creaturae wasn’t constrained by concerns of due process as many mundane law enforcement agencies were, but they also lacked any widely recognized authority to issue writs in any form, from subpoenas to warrants. They had exactly as much power as they could get others to agree to or they could force, which varied by the situation and the subject.
“I think there is some information we could share that wouldn’t compromise the integrity of our investigation,” Eresthanon offered.
After a few moments spent fuming and directing unpleasant looks at the drakus across from them, Aaliyah nodded her head once and waved at Eresthanon to indicate he could proceed.
“This book was the target of a rather brazen and reckless theft,” Eresthanon said. “The Third Pillar was strained significantly and may have been violated, which is what drew our involvement and interest. The contents of the grimoire may shed light on the motive behind the theft and provide new avenues to explore in pursuit of the culprit.”
“Who had it?” Barrett asked.
“Nope, noooo, nuh uh,” Aaliyah cut in. “We don’t know if the people who had it are the ones who originally stole it from you, but even if we did, we wouldn’t tell you so you can try to get revenge for shit that happened, like, four or five Haley’s Comets ago. He answered your question, now you answer his: what’s in your stupid book?”
Barrett shrugged and motioned for Alice to proceed. The young woman brushed her hair back over her ears and cleared her throat.
“From what we know, which is hazy at best, The Sleeping Dragon focused exclusively on the intersection of three subjects: drakus, the Dream, and magic. It’s a book that doesn’t just cover oneiromancy, or dream magic, but a details a paradigm and tradition designed specifically for our use.”
“I could see the value your enemies would place in such an object,” Eresthanon said. “Dragons dwell in dreams, after all, or so the saying goes.”
It took the elf a moment to realize everyone at the table was staring at him. Again. Aaliyah, naturally, was the first to break the silence.
“Who the hell says that about these dumb lizards?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that saying either,” Barrett said, his tone thoughtful.
When the old drakus turned to Alice, she shook her head, as well, her green eyes wide with fervent interest.
“What does it mean?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Eresthanon didn’t answer right away. He took a few seconds to consider that this was yet another completely unexpected development and think over the best way to proceed.
As far as his understanding went, the association between dragons and dreams — or the Dream, if it was taken literally — was common enough that it was practically axiomatic. Nor was it a euphemism; dragons were understood to have the ability to work through dreams in ways few other Creaturae could, rivaled only by the fae and various dream-oriented spirits.
He didn’t question this knowledge, even if he couldn’t remember the specific source as a result of the memory barriers that came with Renewal. He did question the timeliness of his understanding, however. He knew the saying had been common, at some point, but he couldn’t have said when, let alone if it was remotely current. The reactions around the table suggested it wasn’t, not anymore at least.
The world had changed so much in the last two thousand years. It always changed, but it had grown steadily more calcified against the unusual as general human understanding of it had increasingly excluded the supernatural.
Magic hadn’t just become more difficult in the face of growing skepticism and disbelief, sometimes knowledge — and even records — had faded or been lost altogether. Dragons were perhaps the perfect example of the phenomenon, having seemingly lost their ability to take on the infamous and fearsome form that still defined them in popular thought.
Eresthanon found himself burdened with knowledge that might not only be out of date, but if shared, could imbalance the levers and scales of power in the world of the Creaturae. He was going to need to be more mindful of the things he said as he acclimated to the world in this new Cycle.
On the upside, this was another excellent opportunity to practice being circumspect on such sensitive topics. Even better: he seemed to have a deep well of knowledge that suggested he’d not shied away from scholarly pursuits, meaning he wouldn’t have to worry about studying a bunch of dry, boring texts in this Cycle. Truly, every cloud did have a silver lining if you found the light at the right angle.
“I assume what the saying means, exactly, is a matter of much scholarly debate,” Eresthanon said. “Although I think of it as an aphorism among the Creaturae, it’s not an uncommon pairing. Jung, for instance, mentioned dragons in relation to dreams several times, even if he never assigned them the role of an archetype. I imagine the saying, as I have heard it, has roots that could be traced back to the magic in your missing grimoire.”
Barrett gave Eresthanon a measuring look and the elf wasn’t sure if the drakus was satisfied with his answer. Alice also seemed eager to ask more questions. Unless Eresthanon misread her completely, she was invested enough that it didn’t particularly matter whether she’d been fooled by his evasive answer. Thankfully, Eresthanon wasn’t facing the interest of dragons alone.
“So dragons do shady dream shit,” Aaliyah cut in brusquely, shooting a venomous look at Alice. “And this book is supposed to be full of shady dream shit spellcraft. Why would someone who isn’t one of you shady dream snakes want it so damned badly?”
“Because even if it’s designed with us in mind, there’s almost no way every scrap of magic in that grimoire could only be performed by a drakus,” Alice said. “In fact, it’s very likely that-”
“Let’s slow down a second,” Barrett interjected, not unkindly. “We’re glad to help you with your investigation, but there have got to be limits on what we share. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
“Stow your bullshit, old man,” Aaliyah said. “No one’s asking you to give us a copy of your stupid book. That doesn’t mean you can be completely vague about what it might be used for, not with all the trouble the damned thing could and has caused.”
Barrett chewed on Aaliyah’s response for a second, his mouth literally working in consternation. Finally, he heaved a great sigh and slouched back in his seat.
“Fine,” he said. “Fine. Tell me, Tribune Eresthanon, do you know what the Primus Draconis is?”