The little sprite queen leads me back through halls and rooms both grand and... not.
The pathway winds past my old reading haunt, going farther in and further up than I ever dared. These pathways are almost... dreary. The library has always had a certain... charm... about it. A warmth that was just a touch too hot in the walls and a glimpse of flickering shadows from the corner of your eye that didn't seem to be just shadows. Then there are the animal heads and morbid walls the place likes to decorate. The lovely scent of musty books permeated it all.
It's always been a strange friend. A place to relax, even while stealing knowledge from within.
"What is this place?" I finally break the oppressive silence. I run a hand along a mahogany bookshelf that hums at my touch.
"Library Finnick has always been more than he seemed. Once upon a time, he was a place for mages to train, before the wars. When peoples and creatures of all kinds were... cordial with one another. Many came here from all over Beulah, but when..."
She glances at me, shutting her mouth. "But when?" I prompt.
She flutters over, landing on a jutting shelf devoid of books. No other bookshelves are like this little square, so I almost wonder if the library provided her a perch.
"When the Wars of Uself and Kibald began, no one thought it could touch the peace of all nations and creatures. Until Uself stole the bride of King Aric the Bold. Things were never the same, allies against allies and creature against creature. It was bloody. It was cruel. The world has not been the same since the sacrifice came to end it all. Gifted are now left to their own devices, or never come fully into their Gift at all, being told to keep it secret above all else. Gifts are never meant to be hid under a yolk of fear, Aria. They only flourish when they are used to bless others. But such times are lost... for now."
She flutters on, leaving me behind, until I gain enough sense to trot along in her wake.
We reach a pile of books as dusty as they are old.
The queen coughs as her wings blow up a cloud of dust.
“This is likely where you will find your answers. This... this is the oldest texts we have, spelled to be preserved. We fairies have no need of human curiosities, so we put them here. Words are too precious to destroy. A word of caution; try nothing you find in these books. We fairies have hidden them for millennia for reasons beyond your knowledge.”
With one last look to be sure I understand, she darts back into the passageway as if the room was hurting her.
I look at the books with a sigh. Hundreds are here, and I have no clue where to even begin. The library hums around me, and I rest a hand on the wall, then the other, warming my cold fingers. I put my forehead on the wall, breathing out a puff of air.
I suppose it’s like the rest of my life. Put one step in front of the other and hope you find the right path sooner than later. For sometimes, later is too late.
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I pick up a book and sneeze when dust fills my nose.
With a sigh, I sit this book down beside another. These books are written in the Old Hand... and I haven't read such things since I was first taught to read by my father. He made me learn, but I went to Common Hand as soon as possible because it was much easier to read than the swirly, pretty hand of Old. I'm regretting that decision now.
Deciphering the pages is making my eyes hurt, and has yielded next to nothing except back-breaking work and a slightly more organized pile of slightly less dusty books.
I pull out another book when Larich zings through the door, bobbing happily in my face.
I give him a lazy smile. "Hi."
He bobs once, then darts into a pile of books, highlighting one on the very bottom of a towering stack of leaning, thick-spined pages.
I grumble about sore muscles, but stand on a stool and delicately take a few off the top at a time.
The bottom is in sight many turns later, and I can actually see the book little Larich highlights.
"Thanks," I mumble, picking it up. I almost overbalance, expecting something much heavier.
This book is tiny compared to the monstrosities that covered it. Why couldn't it have been at the top instead of the bottom?
I open it to the first page, running my finger along the title.
Known Bonds of the Material Age.
Ahhh. Interesting. I get a dose of energy in finding something a little closer to what I need.
I speed-read through as much as I'm able, and am rewarded when I find a picture of a wolf's head with saber teeth bared in a snarl.
"Keep far from the wolven blood bond. Taken with incest, this bond will strip the bearer of free will. Only a Gifted may accept the token, but beware. Without trust, the blood will boil you alive. Do not offer blood to a wolf freely, for then they shall control you."
Wow. I did everything in that paragraph. It's a good thing I'm still alive and have my free will.
Thanks to me, two-legs.
Eh, I think it's thanks to my outstanding Gift.
You think it's a Curse.
True.
I read on, and only one other part gives me any leads.
"If a bond to a Timber Wolf is crafted, it is by divine appointment. Seek not out that which may serve you, but that which will serve the good of your bond.
A Timber Wolf Bond is sacred. Keep it secret and keep it hidden above all else, for many desire such things."
"Could you be any more vague?" I hiss at the book, slamming the pages shut, coughing when it throws a cloud of dust at me.
According to this, I've done everything backwards and highly wrong, and it won't even give me a hint as to why besides that it's sacred.
Grand.
My eyes are beginning to cross and I know it's time to call a halt for the night before I throw books penned by long-dead people across the room.
~~~
Ran pounces as soon as I exit the library where she waits with Sir Hans. The sky is the deep darkness of the night before the dawn. Rider, are you alright? I—
I step into her mane and give her hairy neck a squeeze. “Beauty, it's alright. You needed a break. I understand.”
Her giant horsey head drops over my shoulder and drags me closer. We’ll get them back, even if it’s the last thing I do.
“We do,” I mumble.
Hmm?
“We. Us. We’re together in this, Beauty. Together we live; together we die. As sisters.”
As sisters, she pledges.
I pull back and kiss her forehead. “Love you.”
Sir Hans is already upon his stallion, waiting for us. He leans forward in his saddle, yawning. "We’d better get going if you wish to be back in time to rest. Tomorrow is here, and with it comes your first trial."
I throw myself upon Ran's back with the help of a jutting rock, and glance up at the moon that’s completed its nightly routine and steadily draws itself closer to the other horizon, darkening the night before the coming dawn of a new day. At least the rain quit.