Orenda was running out of time, and it was beginning to worry her. It wasn’t that she had not been useful to the Knights of Order; she certainly had. She had copied every name she could, had traced lineages in the genealogy department of the library, had learned military ranks by route and come to the conclusion that nepotism seemed to play a higher part in the real power structure than skill.

But she was on the last semester of her last year, and that meant that she was on borrowed time. The Knights would have to find something else for her to do, somewhere else for her to go, quickly. And she was ready for it. She had felt herself stagnating for too long, wasting away in that school that had become a prison for too long. The last time she had been so confined had been at the workhouse, and she vowed that after she escaped this time, she would never be restricted again.

She would not follow Gareth’s example. If one waited for safety, one would wait for all of eternity.

She did not realize she was standing in the small room of the research section of the library, until she came to herself, and realized that she was standing before the door. The last time she had needed guidance, hadn’t that been where she had found it? What did the runes on the floor look like, again? What did Felearn say had been in there? He had tried very hard to say that it had not been a demon, that it certainly had not been Morgani Magnus.

But now the door was almost hidden. It had been boarded up, not exactly like the walls around it, but as if there had been some defect in the walls that was awaiting repair, with planks of wood that looked as if they were meant to keep people out. But if that was the case, why not simply drywall over it and be done with it? Why not actually hide it, make it inaccessible?

What was in that room that Felearn wanted to keep people away from, but not badly enough to cut off access himself?

She studied the wood and thought that if she burned it away to get through, she would likely destroy the reference books in the blaze once it caught. Sometimes, with fast fires, they were difficult to control. Then again, her control was particularly good, and perhaps she should not second guess herself. She was pondering this conundrum when she heard a voice.

“Orenda?”

Orenda turned to see Kassie, who looked as if she had been crying.

“What in the world are you doing in the library at this time of night?” Orenda asked, then added once she took in the sincerity of the tears, “Are you alright?”

“No!” Kassie cried, “No, I’m not alright at all! Shelly kicked us all out of the room! She just received a scry from Lady Glenlen!” She sobbed so that Orenda could barely understand her.

“Shelly’s still here?” Orenda asked in confusion, but Kassie did not pause to listen or consider her question.

“Shelly is so upset that she lashed out! Something has sprouted from the ground and covers the door! No one can get inside!”

“What?” Orenda asked, hearing about every third word through the sobs and unable to piece together any sort of story from it. Shelly should have left, shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t she be preparing for her wedding? Was she perhaps waiting until after graduation? That would make sense; Tolith could have gone on ahead to make preparations. Perhaps, if he had done that, he could have even left a week or so before his mother and had a break from her, which he seemed to desperately need.

“They found the body, Rendy, but it had been beaten so badly and… and…” she sobbed into her handkerchief, “he had been beheaded! Who would do such a thing? Why?”

“What on Xren are you talking about?” Orenda asked, growing annoyed at the lack of sense she was making.

“He was your friend, too, Rendy!” Kassie accused, “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean, it’s just that everyone said you were dangerous and…”

“Whose body did they find, Kassie?” Orenda asked, though she thought, somewhere far away and behind something, she already knew, “What are you talking about?”

“Toli was supposed to go take over for his dad,” Kassie explained, taking a seat at the desk as if she thought it would calm her nerves, “But his carriage was accosted by bandits or something. They weren’t caught. All four of his guards… and then…”

“Tolith is dead?” Orenda asked, and her vision seemed to narrow as the edges grew dark. “Tolith… Lord Glenlen is… dead…”

Lady Shalendra Glenlen - Viscountess of the Far Coast, Orenda’s last list, given to Bubbider to pass on to the Knights of Order had read.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Lord Tolith Glenlen - Viscount of the Far Coast, it had not read.

But it had been implied.

“He had so many guards,” Kassie cried, “I… we can’t… we can’t be mean to each other, Rendy! I’m sorry! We have to be nice! We don’t know how long we’ll be here… the world is a dangerous place.”

“Toli is dead,” Orenda repeated and staggered a little. She had to move forward. She had to get to the periodicals section. She had to see how many unexplained deaths had occurred among the nobility lately. She had to know how many of them had been accosted by bandits.

But she would not make it out of the small research area.

“Orenda,” Quiroris came striding quickly into the room, took in the scene, and said, “Oh. You’ve heard.”

“Toli is dead,” Orenda said.

“How much do you know?” He asked.

“Did you say beheaded?” Orenda asked Kassie, and the girl nodded. “That seems so… extreme. It seems needlessly violent.”

Scooping up the field mice and bopping them on the heads.

“Orenda, I hate to trouble you,” Quiroris said, “But I’m having a bit of difficulty. Shalendra’s quite upset, you know, and she’s regenerating her barrier as quickly as we can take it down. I thought perhaps a little fire magic may be more difficult to-”

“Yes,” Orenda said, “Yes, of course.”

“Go from the roots up, please,” Quiroris said, “try to keep it contained.”

“It is contained, Felaern,” Orenda said, clutching her staff with one hand and pressing the other against the door, “Though I imagine she’s going to notice any second that her barrier is-”

She was cut off by an anguished howl.

“Yes,” Orenda said, “I suspected as much.”

“They had set a date for the wedding,” Dr Vibila explained, “poor thing.”

“I can’t imagine,” Orenda said, though she absolutely could. What she could not imagine was that it would not happen. There had simply not been enough time to imagine such a thing, and Orenda was not the type of person who likely would imagine it, even if she had all the time in the world to spare.

On the other side of the door, her small flames ate away at the roots of the barrier Shalendra had created, and she wondered if the room wasn’t filling up with smoke.

Shalendra began to shriek, and Orenda felt the barrier trying to regrow, but she kept the flame steady and tried the door. The barrier must have weakened enough, because she threw her whole body into it with her shoulder and barreled into the room.

It was a jungle. All the little potted plants on desks or window planters had sprung to unnatural life. They hadn’t just grown over the door, they had grown over everything, creating an impenetrable forest of vines, stems, and leaves.

“Shalendra!” Quiroris called, “It’s the headmaster. I’m here with Dr Vibila! We know that you’re upset. We’ve come to help you.”

“How dare you!?” Shalendra shrieked.

“We’re here to help, dear,” Dr. Vibila promised, “You’re hysterical. We’re just going to help you calm down.”

“You brought her here!” Shalendra’s voice was so shrill, and full of so much emotion that she reminded Orenda of a child, a child who was unaccustomed to the ways of the world and did not know that emotions could be controlled.

“We’ve contacted your mother,” Quiroris explained, “I know it doesn’t… that it can’t feel like it now, but this pain will pass. You need to rest, you need to recover-”

“She needs a sedative,” Dr. Vibila interrupted, “I know we’re not supposed to do that, but honestly, Felaern, a shot of whiskey wouldn’t hurt her at all.”

“I daresay it wouldn’t,” he agreed, then spoke loudly to be heard over the sound of Shalendra, who seemed to have given up on language as a concept, and chosen instead to communicate in a series of wordless howls that reminded Orenda of the werewolf they had once seen in the town square.

“Shalendra, we need you to calm down,” he said, “we don’t want to hurt you but these magical plants you’ve conjured are highly poisonous and you can be injured. You’re lashing out! What is the first rule of magic? You can’t give in like this. This is dangerous! Put your staff down and take off any mage crystals you may be wearing! This can tear you apart!”

“She isn’t listening,” Dr. Vibila said, “We’re going to have to neutralize it.”

“There’s quite a bit of it,” Quiroris argued.

“It’s cracking the walls, Felearn,” Dr. Vibila pointed at something inside the room, but Orenda was not paying attention to her.

One of the vines wound slowly up Orenda’s leg, then around her dress, and finally around her waist. It moved almost like a snake, slithering then tightening around her body, which would not have been bad at all, but then, all at once, thorns the size of elven fingers shot from the thing. She gasped instead of screaming as she felt them burrowing their way into her, and looked down to see the blood seeping from her wounds.

“FELAERN!” Orenda shrieked, “FIX THIS NOW OR I WILL SET THIS ENTIRE PLACE ABLAZE!”

“Thesis’s glowing eyes,” he ran to her in alarm, and she watched the rings in his ears turn green as he fought Shalendra’s will to control the magic. “It’s fine,” He promised, “I’ve got you!”

“It’s a great deal of blood for it to be fine!” Orenda snapped. She was beginning to grow lightheaded, and everything below her waist was going numb, “I think it’s…” She swooned on her feet, “Felaern? I can’t… focus. She’s poisoned…”

“The hell she has!” he snapped, reached into his belt, produced a knife, and cut the vine in one smooth motion. It wriggled as if it could feel the pain, and it was so thick that a green liquid which Orenda thought may be chlorophylle sprayed from it as if it were blood.

“Vibila!” Quorirs shouted, “I need this neutralized! I need her healed!” Orenda could not focus well enough to see the panic in his eyes as he screamed, “Medic!”