Aeron’s heart beat faster as he flipped through the tablets in the drawer. They were smaller than the tablets that were used for writing, and the cabinet had hundreds of small drawers. It had taken a while to even figure out their filing system. From what he could tell each tablet represented a glass case. They were organized by type of record, then by the first letter in the author’s name. He had spent a long time before this learning the Sao-Vaarie script. Most Teh-Vaarie never bothered learning another script, content with their own simple one. But he had needed to after finding the fragment of the journal. Afterwards he had hunted down every scrap of writing he could, working hard to memorize the complex symbols.

Even though everyone on the amalgamation spoke the same language, each race had their own script for it. The Sao-Vaarie spent a lot of time writing records, and for some reason they had felt the need to make their own script as pedantic and needlessly complicated as possible. Each small, flowery symbol could be combined together to make different sounds, and the smallest mark could make the largest difference in pronunciation. They had painstakingly mapped out every sound possible, creating hundreds of unique symbols. It also didn't help that each one looked like a swirling, tangled knot of vines. Aeron had to guess more often than not.

He opened another drawer and dug through the tablets inside. It had to be in here somewhere. He didn't have time for this. Soon he found the drawers labeled journals, and skipped to the symbol that made the N sound. He shuffled through them, glancing down at each one until he came to the end. It hadn’t been there. He went back to the beginning of the drawer and looked through them again, but found nothing.

His heart sank. Why didn't they have it? He sat back down on the floor and heaved a sigh of frustration. He had come all this way for nothing. Weeks of travel, based on the hope it would be here. A knot started building in the pit of his stomach. The Sao-Vaarie would be suspicious of him too. Once the guards woke up they would know what he had done to get in here. He would need to get out of here quickly. He cursed under his breath.

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After fuming for a few minutes he began to think. It had to be here, what had he missed?

“Nevid, where are they hiding you?” he whispered, then paused for a moment, the beginnings of an idea forming. “Nevid…” he whispered again. Then tried to remember how Elrin had spoken. Her Sao-Vaarie accent had been slight, but it was enough to stand out in his mind. “Nevid…” he whispered again, trying to mimic her accent, imagining how she would have said it. Most of her N sounds had been further back in the mouth, almost using her nose. Would that be enough of a difference?

He shot up and began searching again, excitement building. He found the drawer with the same symbol, just with one minor difference. He ripped it open and began reading through the tablets. Halfway down a page he found it, Nevid the wanderer.

“There you are!” He whispered, grinning from ear to ear.

He ran his finger down the tablet, reading the directions on where the case was. He practically ran down the aisle, flying past glass cases. Soon he came to the one indicated.

Beneath the glass were several records. They all looked similar to the one they had given him below, stacks of wooden tablets held together by metal rings. Except these ones were worn and chipped around the edges, their darkened wood showing the ravages of time. He lifted up the lid on the case. As he did, the small hinges on the back let out a squeak of protest. He carefully lifted out the one he wanted. Exhaling rapidly he blew off the thick layer of dust coating the top. Then he slowly ran his fingers over the words burned into the first panel.

This was it, the original journal. Shifting it to one hand he closed the case and then set the journal on top. He slowly flipped through the pages. Chunks of some of the tablets had been splintered off. Entire half pages seemed to be missing. As he got to one of the broken pages he stopped and pulled the fragment from his pocket. He held it up to the tablet and fit it in place. This was it, the wood grain matched seamlessly and the words continued from the page onto the fragment.

He couldn’t hold back the grin that split his face. Excitedly, he flipped the page and looked at the next ones, there were several maps. Including the one that showed the old city. The missing section was there.

Across the room there was a bump at the door.