Chapter 7
-Preparations For a Long Trip-
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This morning things are... different, to say the least; many sounds tell me that the library seems to be very alive today, something that serves as a red flag out of the bat, and descending from the attic after bathing myself and changing clothes to one that doesn't pass the vibe like I was stabbed, I learn why. The first thing that happens when my feet reach the last step is that a broom, walking around and dusting the floor, passes me by, something that puts me in a state of curiosity. Inevitably, to go towards the kitchen, I pass by it, and without mercy, the object collides with me when it tries to move. It's strange to watch a broom furiously bend itself to try to appear taller than me; it waits for something, forcing me to think and act quickly.
"I'm sorry?" I kind of apologize and watch as the broom returns to normal, only giving me a weak push so I move on, as if telling me to 'be more careful'.
Unfortunately, that incident isn't the last, because the moment I get down and try to push the curtains to enter the kitchen, something passes by me rapidly, almost managing to get me off my feet—a wrong step forward—and I nearly do fall, saving myself the pain as a helping hand balances me. The silver maid and its companion that rests on her shoulder both stare at me, with Loa holding an apologetic expression.
"Morning," I say to Loa, looking around the kitchen and finding Milesian sitting on a chair with an open letter in her hand as she seems to think profusely about something. Too, the objects that almost knocked me to my feet reveal themselves as ceramic jars that stop atop the breakfast table and settle themselves. Flowers grow from within them, giving the jars roots at the bottom that they use to walk, and on the side, four wasp wings that help them fly; interestingly, one is bigger and has a smiley face, while the other is smaller and doesn't have an expression, only two round eyes that look like welding goggles. "Did something happen? Why are there so many new things around here?"
The maid, without a possibility to answer, gazes at Milesian before urging me to sit down, and once doing so, she walks back to the kitchen counter to finish preparing breakfast. With nothing much to do but wait, I extend my hand to touch the walking flower vase. Seeing my approach, the smaller one ignores me completely, as the taller one does the same as I, the only difference being that instead of a hand, it tilts itself to the side slightly and extends a root to my meeting. The sensation is really one I expected, with the interesting part being how it grasps my index finger and curiously shakes it, acting as if I were the one strange thing in this place. The thought alone drags a smile to my lips as I return the peculiar handshake.
It takes a minute, but eventually, Milesian rests the letter on the table and acknowledges my presence. "Good morning, Noma. Was your sleep helpful to your wounds?"
I nod my head, returning my hands to my lap. "Yes, I'm feeling a whole lot better now." My eyes stop on the letter she was reading, and in the end, I decide to ask. "Did something bad happen?"
"Not exactly. This letter comes from an old acquaintance of mine, and the content of it suggests she requires my help." She takes the letter and places it in the inside pocket of her overcoat. "I'll need an hour to think it over before making any decisions, but you had a question about the new additions to the library, correct?"
I nod my head. "Yes, it all just came out of nowhere." As I say that, Loa puts a plate in front of me with scrambled eggs and cube-cut waffles, with pieces of strawberry and some grapes as topping, alongside a generous amount of honey. With the delicious-looking breakfast settled down, to complete it, she places on the side a teacup, and once again, to not break the chain of bizarre events, something strange appears. Loa places a ceramic teapot atop the table that has a strange shape; it resembles a dog; on the opening that looks like a mouth, the teapot holds a spoon; it has a blue gem on each side of its 'face' to serve as eyes; of course, the moment I think it's just a strange design, the object starts moving. The movement shakes the tea visible on its see-through glass stomach, a yellowed liquid with leaves that fly around it; the object approaches my teacup and jumps excitedly before bowing down and, letting me take the spoon before, through its mouth, letting the tea it carries fill my cup. The groundy smell of the tea and the steam that rises from it make me take in a deep, calming breath. After completing its job, the teapot looks at me expectantly while moving from side to side. I take the clear request with a spoon of salt, reaching my hand to the side of it. I carefully pet the glass side of the object that leaves its content visible and watch as the creature's movement increases, almost dancing from contentment.
"Remember what I said yesterday?" Milesian asks, not expecting an answer. "Now that Loa has a way to do magic, she chooses to bring these objects to life so she can easily split her attention into different tasks." At these words of Milesian, the silver maid approaches my side and places her hand on my shoulder before bending down and wrapping her arms like a Christmas gift around me—a hug I'm stunned at first, but soon find myself returning. As it ends, Milesian taps the table and gestures towards my plate. "Eat up, and after you do stay put, I'll go meet with John to get permission to, if needed, go after resolving this request."
"Oh, okay," I was expecting her to eat breakfast with me, but I can also understand her situation. She rises to her feet, and as she passes me by, she places a hand on my shoulder out of nowhere that lasts for a quick second before she's gone, turning into dark smoke and slipping away.
Ending the breakfast, I move myself to the library center, where I lay myself in the open circle it has; it's beautiful. On the floor, well-placed tiles compose a detailed drawing of the constellation map; deep tones of blue, purple, and white turn what could be a boring floor into the best place to take my mind off things. Taking into consideration all the things I could be doing, I choose to do nothing, but then that gets boring fast and my body starts begging me to do something instead of lazing around—anything.
On time, as I roll to my side to grab a book at random from the pile I made, Loa, with a closed book in her hand, taps my shoulder to grab my attention.
"Loa," I look at the maid and sit up, observing as she squats down, sits beside me, and offers me the book on her hold; the cover leaves the interesting title clear to my eyes: A Maid Reborn. "What is it-" As the question starts to leave me, all the objects she brought to life come around us: The flower vases fly to the staircase behind us and stay on the rails, watching us; the broom that was swiping the upper floor stops beside the bookshelf in front of me and waits, making me swear I can see it moving its body like a nod; as the last one, a set of three teapots made of different materials run from the kitchen and find a comfortable spot near my legs. "Do you want me to read it for you?"
As the maid eyes me and nods diligently, I find myself unable to refuse her request; it feels like her personal gang of magical household objects are gangsters that are here to make sure I do as their chief wants—a good idea for a book. "Okay, I can read it for you."
First, I weigh the book; it must have about fifty pages or so by how light it feels, and in a quick calculation to read it all, it will probably take about an hour to end it. Flipping the book so I can study the back cover: 'A young woman walks the path of the legendary maid who was her mother, following the steps her guiding figure once took to make a name for herself. Will she follow her duty or give in to her heart's desire as a figure from her past returns, bringing with it feelings once buried.'. With the inspection done, I lose no more time to start reading it once I notice the broom becoming impatient, moving from one side to the other slowly, almost hypnotically.
Time starts to pass, and as I finish one page at a time, the story it tries to tell unravels before me slowly. It isn't super long; most things happen fast as the woman, at the start of her journey, struggling to survive after her mother's death leaves her coinless, meets in the streets by faith her childhood friend, once a problematic child who she visited while her mother worked at the imperial city, now the empress of a fictional country in the medieval era. It tells of a fling both had for each other without knowing, which made the protagonist take the job offer as a maid in the empress's mansion, where she learns her skill with an old maid who worked there, who starts as a person who fakes hating her to show that it was necessary for the protagonist's growth. In the end, the empress and the maid confess to each other when they visit a place only they know. A classic romance with a happy ending.
Not a bad read, but not much either. Or so I think, as once I close the book Loa and all the objects around me enter a state of awe, like a child hearing the tales of King Arthur for the first time, everyone but the broom, who seems to play cool. Loa, moving closer to me, places her hand atop the book and smiles as a way of thanking me. I feel strangely happy for being able to do something for her, so I find myself smiling back.
The time it takes to read the book matches the exact time needed for Milesian's return; as the library's door creaks open, every object that was stationed starts to run back to the places they should be. The returning witch climbs down the stairs, her eyes wandering around in search of something, until they fall right on me.
"I'm home," Milesian announces, approaching the maid and me on the ground. "Unfortunately, my stay won't be long."
Tilting my head, I look at Milesian as she stops to stand beside me. "You won't?"
"In reality, we both won't. The request I received earlier is one that I'll need to solve, and you're coming with me this time." Milesian inforces, squatting down to my level and placing her gloved hand on my shoulder. "Loa, can you prepare Noma's backpack for the travel?"
The maid, with a nod of her head, rises to her feet to do as asked of her, only stopping to look at the witch beside me with a facial expression I can't read, but apparently Milesian can. "I assume we will be out for a week; still, the possibility exists that we will return earlier; I'll need you to keep an eye on the library once more." With her question answered, Loa disappears from the center of the library; her rushed footsteps are audible as she goes towards the attic, which leaves me to ask my own questions.
"You sure that having me with you there is a good idea? I could stay here to help Loa if you want."
"My words from yesterday weren't hollow; I'll show you the world I promised when I offered you to become my apprentice," She taps my shoulder, urging me back to my feet while helping me do so, tenderly grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "But if your preoccupations are with the library, you can throw them away; with Loa here, there isn't anything to fear."
"Okay, just one more thing. Where are we-" My words are cut off by Loa rushing downstairs with my backpack, packed with my things and seemingly some more things; too, she hands me the torn clothes from yesterday, all sewed up as best as they can be in the state they were after everything.
"We will talk more on the train; now come with me, our arrival is expected before midday." Those are the last words we are able to exchange before we are thrown away from the library by Loa, who waves us goodbye and watches us as we leave. I just hope she won't feel lonely while we are gone.
We walk through the forest, along the dirt road, and finally reach the train station. Just like before, the train starts to announce its timely arrival with the loud rumbling it produces that shakes the rails and the smoke that takes the skies climbing from between trees in the distance. At least the day is calm; when passing near the village, some of the residents greeted us; others avoided looking at Milesian; but the worst part was without doubt not being able to say my goodbyes to the topah and woos, one thing I keep on my list to do once I return.
The train decelerates for us, bringing with its arrival a gasp of wind that makes it hard not to close my eyes upon contact. It's the first time I really stop to look at the train and study it: four compartments, two that I know very well as the passenger area, one on the very front, probably for the staff, and one in the end that keeps its mystery still. The same man from last time appears, bending his spine inhumanely to greet us with his professional expression.
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"Welcome to Spirit Express; we are glad to be your recurrent choice and to provide you both with this travel." Curly medium hair looking like a wheat field in the summer afternoon, golden like the sunset at the right time; in his face, a beard poorly maintained that gives his general look a vibe belonging to a kind, middle-aged man. He looked younger last time, but now that he has left the bear grow on his face supernaturally in the span of just one day, it seems more natural, almost making me forget he's not human. "Please follow me; I'll get you two to your seats at the moment." As we step inside the train and the door closes behind us, he turns his eyes to our meeting to make one last announcement. "As your journey will have a duration greater than the down of the sun and the rise of one moon, we will keep on the location for when the time for your return home comes."
Our walk once again leads us directly to our seats from before, with the privileged view of the outside world from the clean square window. As I place myself in my seat, Milesian takes my backpack and rests it on the compartment atop me so she can join my side. A little unexpected but appreciated gesture.
The man looks at us both and bows his head. "If any of you find yourselves in need of water or food, we will gladly provide what we can; just head to the front area and find me. Good travels." Once he says what he wants, he leaves, porting in his face a simple kind smile.
"I know you'll want to ask again about the details of the request, but at this moment, do yourself a favor," As she starts talking, the train comes to life, vibrating and preparing itself to begin the journey. "Keep your eyes focused out the window; I believe the scenario will be of your pleasure. We will have time to talk along the way, as the travel will take at least three hours."
All I can do is obey her words, gluing my eyes to the window as Milesian moves her body close to mine, her skull head resting atop mine, permitting her eyes to observe the same scenario as I: strangely intimate, familiar warmth. As soon as the train starts to move, the strange things Milesian's words hinted at start to show themselves. For a moment, I think of rubbing my eyes to clear my vision from what I thought to be some remnants of yesterday's tiredness, but I'm stopped by the confirmation of what my eyes inform me of. The train starts to move, but backward instead of the normal forward, gradually speeding more and more towards what holds the path the train always takes to arrive at us.
It was a question I had since the first time I saw the train yesterday, so seeing the answer reveal itself in front of me is nice; it climbs the mountain, reaching for rails taken over by vegetation, forgotten by time, having most parts broken or missing, but somehow, even with that, the train makes past the obstacles like they aren't there. The whole path we start taking is from forest to forest, changing directions seemingly at will to make sure we avoid the cities nearby.
"The most interesting view will come in an hour; for now, allow me to fill you in on the information," Milesian, without moving or leaving the position we are in, talks. "The letter I received didn't inform me of why; it only reinforced the urgency of my immediate presence on the island where this acquaintance of mine resides."
"Wait, island?"
"Yes, an unmapped island, magically hidden from humans in the middle of the way from Iceland to Greenland."
"So we will take a boat to get there." I assume, to which Milesian shakes her head in negation.
"No, but leave it aside for now; it will only spoil what I talked about," Milesian says and moves on. "This friend of mine, Circe, can be hard to deal with sometimes, so make yourself ready; the request can be of extreme importance and so dangerous, or a waste of our time."
I stop to think of her words, changing my gaze to my lap. "I don't get it."
"What is it you don't get?"
"If this friend of yours is untrustworthy to the point of the possibility that this request is a waste of time, why go at all?"
"A good question," Milesian unglues from me just so she can move enough to cross her legs, entering what at this point I'll call reminiscing mode. "At one time before I was forced to call on a favor of her. This island we will go to is the paradise for beings that can't hide in forests, away from the human eye, due to their sizes and properties, so they needed to be moved to a bigger place, hence the location I've chosen. The favor I asked of her was to go live on the island and take care of the place so no human would accidentally find themselves on its territory, avoiding the exposition of it to the world. Even if it benefited us both regarding her situation at the time, she insisted I would be in debt with her for the trouble, and so she used this opportunity to call me over at this moment. If I had to assume her reason, I would place my bet on an emergency regarding one of her beloved nymphs, but too, it can be about the beasts hidden on the island."
She moves her face to gaze at me, finishing the thought in her head. "The train possesses a workstation, so while we are still on land, I'll offer; do you wish to learn how to make one of my remedies? I'm sure it will come in useful once we arrive at the destination."
I nod a little faster than I expected; the opportunity to learn something like this can make so I'm able to assist her not only in handing the medicine to the people in the village but in crafting it too. "Of course I do."
"Good, your enthusiasm is a relief to watch," Raising to her feet, she offers me her helping hand, which I take to get on my feet. "Follow me, and find in your backpack a wooden box. Loa should have packed some herbs and stored them in it." Taking my backpack from the compartment, I search and quickly find the box that stands out from my normal stuff and shove it back in the storage compartment before moving on to catch up with Milesian, who initiated her walk before me.
As I walk more, getting closer to Milesian's side, I notice the place we are directing ourselves towards is the mysterious back of the train I spotted before. On the way, with my eyes wandering about all the corners it can get a good vision of, I start to spot from time to time small people made of clay, like old toys, climbing seats, and rearranging some boxes to the front part of the train, even passing us by in the process. That happens quick, and too, it ends, with my focus being redirected to the steel door that surges in front of us magically. It twists and opens slowly, allowing us a gradual view of what waits for us inside.
A whole wagon is presented to us, with boxes piled up atop other boxes that seem to hold materials unknown to me, a workbench with tools taking up the wall directly in front of it, and empty vials and bottles to be used. Milesian turns to me, wrapping her gloved hand tightly around the box I hold and taking it in her hand, guiding the item and me towards our destination.
The box is placed on the workbench and soon opened by Milesian. Different types of herbs stain the air with their strong scent, which is not at all bad, just a little too concentrated.
"These three herbs you see can be combined or used individually to make different remedies; all of them grow around the library, so if you end up finding one exploring, remember to collect them." She grabs the first one, a small stem that holds bifurcated paths with even smaller, soft, alternate, blue-green leaves that grow on the ends of it, finely divided, giving it a fern-like appearance. "This one is named Hortus Amicus, or garden friend in Latin, the reason being you can mostly find it near common types of flowers that grow in most gardens; the method to use it is to cut the leaves into small pieces," She starts to demonstrate, laying the herb on the workbench and taking one silver scissor from the wall among the many tools. "Separate the seeds; you'll use them to make a fine powder out of them." She smashes the seeds, and with that, she places the scissors to the side and takes one of the vials, mixing the seed powder and cut leaves together. "With this mixture, you just need to place it in hot water, and it will turn into a bitter tea that can help heal the common cold."
She proceeds to take on more of the herbs out of the box, this one having the appearance of a normal flower; its petals are deep, alluring purple, and on its center is a mix of white that takes on the more retracted petals and yellow seeds that are held dearly within the white petal walls. "Dormiens Stella, or otherwise called sleeping star, can be placed on a person's head when they are ready to bed to help them fall asleep easier when suffering from insomnia, or ingested to put themselves to sleep. Just never eat the whole flower; a single petal will put you in a deep sleep, so if you ingest more, the chances are that you will have a fate like the sleeping beauty."
Milesian puts it safely on the vial and wraps a small piece of cloth around it, focusing now on the last herb the box holds. A single root strand, red as blood, is brought to my view; the thing seems to pulsate when looking too closely. "Fluitans Sanguis, this one that grows in the lake behind the library, preys on smaller fish that find themselves wandering too close to it, sucking off its blood while sticking itself to the animal's body with its small needles. The blood it holds is then condensed and tightly secured in its root; you only need to add a small drop of your blood to the liquid, and it can serve to help the badly wounded." Without warning, she grabs my hand and gently places the root in the center of my palm. "This one I want you to make, then keep it on yourself to when we reach the island; if the worst comes to happen to you, this can help you or another someone."
The pressure she puts on my shoulder at this moment is hard to carry, but there is a certain something in her eyes, in the way they shine in curiosity, hidden behind an unexpressive skull face, for the morbid yet intense tone her tongue slips in; it all makes me want to meet the expectation she places on me. Instructed by her, I grab the root and carefully snap it in half to allow the blood to flow down inside the vial, and it does, like honey, slowly and uniformly finding its way to the bottom of the glass; it takes some seconds for it all to leave the root, but once it does, I throw the empty root aside in the workbench and, with my trembling hands, grab the silver scissor. Milesian seems to notice how my hands can't keep quiet as I guide the silver tip to my index finger or how my heart beats so strongly against my chest that makes my chest rise and fall rapidly; the anxiety, the anticipation—it all ends once the warmth held inside a glove meets the hand I hold the scissors on.
"There is nothing to fear, as all the things that could go wrong are not present here; it's a simple procedure." Her presence holds an important remedy for my brain—one that slows down my spinning world with just words, one that grounds me to my feet, providing me with the confidence I need to do this. She guides my hand, and soon, a cold feeling strikes my chords. The tip of the scissor enters my finger and makes a hole, through which my essence can flow out—a single drop of blood. It falls on the veil, instantly transforming the washed-out red into a vibrant, almost deep blue. "Good work." Milesian praises, retracting her hands to herself, stealing the warmth I wanted so desperately to hold on to. Once it goes away, I find myself almost slapping my face to get back to normal, melting like this is not something normal; not something I should do. I'm getting too used to her presence and touch.
"I'll go back to our seat and store this," I grab the vial with the blood and take a step backward. "I need to write all this down so I don't forget." I lie through my teeth—well, not exactly. I'm sure I'll write it down, but I just need to take a breather.
"That sounds good," Milesian comments, shifting her gaze to the workbench. "I'll stay here some more; I believe that in one of these boxes, I can find something useful to our journey; I'll join you in no time."
I don't even look at her to nod; instead, to avoid embarrassing myself more, I run back to our seats, keeping my head down and shaking the thoughts away. Once reaching the place, I, in a hurry, try grabbing my backpack just for it to fall atop me, bringing me to the ground with my things. All I can do is let out a laugh at how pathetically I'm acting right now before forcing myself to get back on track, first starting by getting my stuff off the floor.
In the process of doing so, I notice that Ayla's diary has fallen a little further away, almost slipping to below the seat, and so I bend down to grab it, finding it open on a page with a lot of writing. Atop the circle words that remind me of that strange spell book from Milesian stands a title to it: calling. Seeking not to get frozen on a sofa again, I close it up and place it back on my backpack before sitting down.
Things slow down, my eyes unfocus from my sketchbook after I'm done writing things down, and move toward the blurry world outside.
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