The burning of a headache found me the moment my lids had opened, and as the dreams were responsible, the actual reason was coated with the midst of the aftermath. Waking up devoured the rest of my memories and recollection of what had happened until the pain was enough to stop trying to remember.
Kâl and I had stayed very silent since our clash around the pool, although the attitude she bore transpired the same pride I could hold up sometimes. She had been honest, had admitted a weakness that had eaten her up from the inside, and had decided we were close enough to come clean. One part of me wanted to forgive and forget, but the other one needed explanation. How come the Shadow faltered? How could she lose something as important as cold-blood? After all the fights she took, all the wisdom she gathered?
A few hours passed and we were already guided by Krolea and Shay-In to their library, where the books we needed to translate were stored.
We were still under the dome but the air changed slightly around us. Something deeper and more electric surrounded us, the atmosphere heavier, adding weight on our shoulders. We traversed a large number of trees and one majestic arch made of red vines, flowers of all colors, burgeons as green as Kâl’s eyes. It was placed on an obscure stone that evaporated with a flick of Krolea’s hand. The latter gestured us to come inside first and we obeyed.
The place was grandiose. Composed as any other library, with aisles, sections and tables, the walls had been polished to the point where we could see one another into them. Every light, every color, the black and white rocks were working as mirrors, shooting rays of light and tones all across the place. An extravagant chandelier was hung in the very middle, made with a semblance of diamonds, but the tiny stones were shimmering under an unnatural breeze, shifting ever so lightly the reflections. It felt like stepping into an unending and frozen firework.
They had constructed shelves inside the walls themselves, and they had filled them with paintings, artifacts, sculptures and books. Lots and lots of books.
With a swift movement of their fingers, Krolea charged their magic and three books from different spaces appeared in our vision, floated to the table at the center, and delicately descended onto it. One of them mystically drew my attention, but it had been stacked underneath the others. “I know this situation must be unsettling, humans,” they grabbed the first book and caressed the relief over its cover, “you have to understand you might be our only hope. How many years should we wait again for the opportunity?”
“Do they want us to find something in particular?” Kâl demanded, already sitting on a large leather armchair nearby. I talked to them.
“If you ever stumble upon a way back to Fryor, that would be exquisite.” Pulling a chair for myself, I sat and held the second book on the pile. “We will leave you to it,” Krolea spoke again. “Feel free to ring that bell if you find yourselves in need of anything. Min and Geia aren’t very far, they take care of this place. Do try not to disturb them so much, they despise noise.” And with an awkward smile, they both aimed for the exit and disappeared into the dark again.
Kâl gazed at me but I didn’t return the look. My own eyes were riveted on the first manuscript in front of me, where a distinct Y was shaped on the cover. My finger stroked the figure and managed to drag it closer to me, right in front of my eyes.
Kâl stood up and wandered through the aisles, letting her fingers caress the books’ soft backs, inhaling the specific scent of old but maintained pages, dropping her hand along the carved sharp stones composing the whole library. “This is incredible. All that history, all the knowledge contained in this place alone, it’s breathtaking.”
I couldn’t answer. And I couldn’t open the book either. It was there, between my palms, and I just had to move my thumb under that first hard cover to reveal everything I needed to know. What my father had told me, what he said about my life, about my marking, about my whole being, I could have the answers right now, the confirmation, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to execute that single and rather easy movement. My heart pounded into my chest, my eyes stung and tears filled them as I realized I had stopped blinking a moment ago. Breathing was hard and useless.
“Is everything alright?” Kâl questioned me and I lifted my head so fast to meet her gaze that my neck hurt. She must have heard about the Great Suppression, as she had told in the cell, her mother and herself had to live hidden from the rest. And being a woman must have shifted her focus on surviving for that reason rather than noticing the Yons were getting slaughtered a few years after. Likewise, both tragedies lasted an abbreviated period of time but had damaged so much, people had wished to forget about it as fast as possible.
“Yes, sorry. Let’s get started.”
I pushed the Y tome and gathered my attention to the first book I had laid my devotion on. I wondered if I really needed that story to be recognized. Hidram had lied many times, by omission mostly, he tried as much as he could to just avoid the subject rather than having to imagine a whole fib for me to believe.
If he had invented all that Yon genocide, there had to be another reason for me to cover my back. But this or that, I had understood the message and kept my marking hidden from anyone’s eyes. And after that Jalyon lacerated my skin from one end to the other, the Y wasn’t clearly visible anymore. To know the exact reason felt like hanging on to a past I only wished to put aside.
As Kâl took her place over the armchair again, I stayed over the table, pushing away the book, far from my sight, and kept my attention to the one we had to translate. A soft, reposing silence filled the large library and we fell into a pace, as we could hear each other’s breathing and the rustles of the pages against our fingers. The first paragraphs were presenting a human explorer that had previously followed numerous species in their natural habitat. The years and timeline were not completely evident, nor written, but from what I had understood talking to the Maors, their community had already arrived over Zelian.
The explorer had decided to travel away from the capitol, and the hypothesis of fleeing Kendara didn’t seem like a horrible idea as it was described in the book. I figured the state of the planet, at this time, hadn’t dissolved as it had after. The story must be taking place several hundred years before us.
"The rumors are adamant. Maors have found refuge in a recluse part of the path to Korshtain, and as I drove there for numerous hours, it started to feel like the rumors were only that. Nothing around me seems to betray their positions nor remnants of them living nearby.
I had been warned. They were mystical and weaved magic like no other. I will camp here, and wait for something to happen. Hopefully soon."
Unfortunately, the book wasn’t narrating their arrival on the planet, nor how Maorat had been created. If this place had existed before that the Maors had decided it would be their safe refuge. Or if they had used some kind of magic to assemble the whole place, which was situated inside a mountain. I continued.
"Four days passed. I am still surrounded by nothing around, and cannot possibly imagine the Maors living in a place like this. Maybe they are underground, but I have no proper tools to confirm this conjecture. I almost didn’t sleep at all, to avoid missing precious details during the night, but again, in vain. I need to move.
Six more days that I’ve walked. My feet are aching and my reserves have thinned by the second. I need to keep enough of them for the way back. Two, maybe three more days, maximum.
The only change worth exploring is an alcove inside a small mountain a bit farther from where I stopped to regain some strength. This will be the last attempt before I turn around.
A monster made the trip difficult but I managed to kill it before it damaged me too much. I’m exhausted. The mountain is right in front of me, although nothing stands out. I will sleep here tonight, and start walking back to the capitol early in the morning."
A large straight line had been drawn after the end of the word, as if the person had been stopped while writing. The mountain he found, as he described it, seemed to match the general shape of the Maorat we know, but it is only after I read the next paragraph that I knew for certain he had discovered what he had been searching for.
"This encounter was unbelievable. I have returned to the city but not before I had fallen over one majestic Maor, pushing my body while I was asleep, making sure I wasn’t a dead person right in front of their secret entrance, that would have lured many monsters to their refuge. We both startled as I awoke and I showered them with questions that I will transcribe a bit later in this book. I asked to come in, to see their sanctuary, as they call it, but they refused. They didn’t seem violent, nor against the idea of showing me around, only they couldn’t let their entrance open long. They have magical protection spells to cast, to avoid people, or monsters, being drawn to the place. Besides, once their den is closed, nothing, not even them, can open it back until the spells stifle out and need to be strengthened, every ten years."
My eyes widened, as the last few sentences rang loud and clear inside my brain. “What?” I shouted out loud, standing straight up, the book still in my hands, completely dumbfounded over the fact that we had been trapped here and wouldn’t be able to come out before ten years would pass.
Kâl straightened all the same. “What did you find?” she asked, but I didn’t respond. As she understood I wasn’t going to, she closed the distance between us to watch over my shoulder and see what had made me jump this high. But we didn’t have time to exchange about it, as our gaze was drawn to the entrance of the library, where all the Maors were barging in, Shay-In and Krolea close, Hei-Tria lifting my bag up in the air and dropping it loudly on the table, still gripping it tight nonetheless. “What do you have in this, human?” they screamed.
We put the book away and marched back just enough so we wouldn’t be as cornered as we were seconds ago. Kâl’s brows frowned and I lifted my hands in the air. “What are you talking about?” I asked, although I didn’t like the tone they employed.
“You have a piece here. I can sense it,” they repeated. “Open.” Krolea closed the few steps between them and placed their arm around Hei-Tria’s shoulders. They whispered Maor language in their ear and they seemed to lose their rage just enough to inhale deeply and release my bag. “Open it, humans, before I slash it into shreds.”
I wondered why they hadn’t done that already, maybe Maor’s principles were this much important. But I didn’t like being undermined. And even less ordered. “This is absurd.” I replied.
“What are you hiding, stranger?” Krolea asked. I flinched at the name.
“Open it yourselves.” I responded as we had nothing to hide. Besides our clothes and some of our weapons, we hadn’t brought anything else along. It was only when the Maor withdrew the dagger with the gem between their thin fingers after tearing the bag in two, that the veil around my question only thickened.
“Outrageous.” They hissed.
“It is just a weapon,” I interrupted but they lifted their hairless brows with pure disdain.
“Just a weapon? This is the dagger of our deity Lumnis, how could you, humans, lie and retain it?" They didn’t wait for me to answer. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Your kind is known for its mischief.”
“We had no idea it belonged to her,” I started explaining, watching Kâl that seemed as confused as I was. “The Jalyons had it.”
“And you stole it,” Hei-Tria insisted. The tale from Kâl’s mother found its way back to my mind. She had talked about a woman leading fighters with a dagger just like this. But how could we have imagined, narrated by a human, that the story was related to a Maor? Let alone the Maor they had elevated as a god themselves?
Hei-Tria’s eyes were even darker than before and the way they were frowning had displayed a whole new expression over their pale visage. Pure fury reverberated against me, and it only echoed with my own rage building from what I had read.
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“Since we are all accusing each other, when were you counting on telling us we are trapped here for ten years?” They all kept quiet. “Because I would have liked to know before we set foot inside.”
Kâl understood the words and her fists were clenched when I shot her a glance. We didn’t lie about the dagger; we had no idea what true origin it had. They lied on purpose, or preferred omitting that we had a choice once we were in front of Shay-In yesterday. The tension was palpable. Hei-Tria’s grip over the dagger hadn’t smoothened, and the expression on their face remained the same. Only Krolea decided it would be preferable for all of us to defuse the terrible pressure that filled the whole room. “Let’s… all calm down.” They said, their arms up and slim hands gesturing for us to lower our imaginary weapons.
My eyes were glued on the old Maor.
Krolea took the reins of the conversation. “Please, explain how you found the weapon.”
My shoulders tensed and my eyes rolled over the sky as patience floated out of my body slowly. “As I told you, the Jalyons had it. I don’t know how they got the dagger, but when they destroyed my home and killed my father, I decided the least I could do was steal their pretty weapon.”
It wasn’t my type to whine, nor to victimize myself, but anger had taken the best of me at the moment. I needed them to understand we were completely innocent before they would burn us to the ground until we wouldn’t be more than dust. But as I had acted against the Sagunieri, I was ready to snatch the weapon away from their grip and use it to defend myself, as stupid and useless as the action might have been.
The Protector watched me and knew my next question. Their stare was different, not filled with anger, more despair, and regret. “Did you even have a chance outside?” they rather asked and sensed my blood boiling even more.
“That is not the point.”
“Look at the positive side—”
“Stop deviating the subject,” I exclaimed, contouring the table to approach Krolea and the other Maors. Shay-In stepped in.
“Do not threaten our Protector, human. This won’t end well. For you.”
My chest was rising furiously and my fists were itching but they were right. This wasn’t the time for a fight, let alone with a species possessing powers I didn’t know the extent of. Kâl’s cold fingers covered my wrist and I didn’t resist when she pulled me away. “This isn’t just about translating old books, now,” I continued.
Krolea’s gaze found the floor. “We were not completely sure. Not a single soul has crossed our path for decades. We figured you wouldn’t have accepted if we had displayed the whole conditions of your stay here. You truly are our only hope.”
They were probably right. Would have we survived outside? Before stepping in front of their entrance, we had siphoned the entirety of our provisions and water. We were destined for a catastrophic death. But having to acknowledge the fact that if the books couldn’t help, we would have to wait a decade before maybe going outside was ludicrous. What would we even find? Maybe this planet wouldn’t survive another ten years.
“I might have a lead,” Kâl’s voice erupted from behind my ear and I turned around quickly. Her fingers were still on my hand and I figured this was her way to apologize again for the night before. My expression must have been clear enough because she continued. “What I am reading is very interesting. Tell them.”
I obeyed. Their eyes glinted with hope and curiosity, and even Hei-Tria loosened their features. They kept the dagger over their palm but they lowered the blade, as they were still menacing us until now. They all solemnly nodded and withdrew themselves one by one after wishing us the best. Krolea stayed a little bit longer than the others to apologize. “We will find a way to repent ourselves for this, humans.”
And I only nodded. Watched them leave silently. They had their reasons and they used us. They were not the first and wouldn’t probably be the last. It didn’t, nonetheless, sweeten the bitter taste coating my mouth. Nor the crippling fear of truly being imprisoned.
When the tension had fallen and our breaths had restored a normal pace, my hand ran along my curls as I disheveled them even more, noticing they were achieving a questionable length. We enjoyed the silence for a few minutes longer, while we found back our places and continued our respective books, until hours flew by and one of our stomachs grumbled atrociously loudly around the walls of the library.
“I’ll summon Min and Geia, then.” I laughed and while I reached for the bell, Kâl talked from across the room. “I could cut your hair, if you want.”
The bell rang and I rose up one eyebrow, waiting for the two people to arrive. “You would?”
“Yes. I even cut my hair.”
“Your hair is long and straight.” I recalled.
“You clearly haven’t paid attention.” She taunted me and I rolled my eyes. We waited a few more seconds before the two Maors winnowed inside the room, right in front of me.
Min and Geia were visually resembling the Maors but they were indubitably shorter, their heads barely reaching my shoulders. They wore one red and one golden robe, with a thin and delicate flower crown over their heads. Their hair was masking their faces and they kept their chins down on purpose. One of their arms was locked to each other, but when I focused my attention on it, I realized they shared the same arm. “Hi, um, we wanted to know if there was something to eat in here?” I asked, a bit inelegantly.
“Anything you want.” They talked at the same time. Kâl rose up and walked towards them, bowing slightly before talking. “Do you have Kendarian food?”
“We can prepare it for you. Anything you want.” They repeated. Kâl’s eyes glimmered and she listed three different plates, with beverages and two more orders for dessert. I almost felt the need to apologize to Min and Geia, but the moment Kâl finished talking, they disappeared in a blink of an eye. “How are you going to eat all of this?” I exclaimed; my arms opened in disbelief.
“We have a lot to read, Nolis. And I have to cut your hair.” She responded, before falling again in her armchair.
“How come they didn’t bring us here directly when we asked for food?” I shook my head. Standing right next to the bell, a soft and reassuring silence occupied the room during what lasted minutes but could have been seconds.
“Do you like it shorter?”
I blinked a few times, realizing I’d been drifting into my thoughts and away from reality. “What?” I blurted.
“Your hair. Don’t you like your curls?” She explained. My fingers stroked the latter before scratching my beard, which also significantly grew.
“I don’t mind them,” I finally replied. “It’s just hair.”
“You never thought about your appearance.” She declared. Sounded like a question but really wasn’t.
“It wasn’t my main concern. Hidram dictated their length when I was a boy. Then he let me decide.” She shifted in her seat and splayed her legs, offering me to join her with a stretched foot pointing at the other one. I walked towards her and placed the book over the nearest table.
“If you had to decide,” she insisted, “regarding your preferences, would you keep it short?”
“I’m ok with it being long,” I shrugged. “Tying it only takes a second.”
“You do like your curls, uh?” One side of my lips curled upwards and I cocked my head to the side, suddenly shy being the center of attention.
“It’s different,” I answered.
We switched our focus for a second when we started smelling the food being prepared. Even if no other doors were visible, and we had no idea where Min and Geia were cooking our orders, the entire room was filled with scents of herbs, tomato sauce, fried onions and what I thought were carrots but Kâl certified it was a fancier vegetable.
Kendara had lost so many foods over the years, the earth so dry and impractical, we had stopped using condiments and spices, anything that would embellish a meal. We stayed quiet for a moment longer when Kâl’s belly growled. She apologized. “I can’t believe they are provided with all of this when we struggle for a single potato every two days,” I sighed.
“They had a rough time.” She responded. My chin lifted, asking her silently to say more. “Despite their height and imposing physique, they really were a minority in Fryor. My book depicted a hierarchy where the Malrys had the final word over every opportunity or event. But since they lived as a quiet, transparent and undemanding specie, they didn’t mind apparently, only grateful to have a place to sleep and eat. Things changed when Lumnis joined.”
I was deeply attentive. “She felt entitled and started bossing everyone around. A lot of Malrys resented her and took their shot when she vanished.”
“Do we have more info on that?” I interrupted.
“Her disappearance?” I nodded. “Something deeply tragic. That completely changed the course of history apparently. But this one has been written after the event. Multiple years after. Maybe it happened too long prior and they forgot.”
“Or were forbidden to even voice about it.” I added. She cocked her head. “A terrible incident occurs and absolutely no one decides to pass on the information? It feels suspicious.”
She hummed and glided her gaze away, deep in thoughts when her stomach manifested its impatience again. She giggled. “Should you cut my hair now,” I proposed, “so your mind would be concentrated?”
“Yes.” We rose up from our comfortable armchairs and walked towards the central table, where I sat on one of the chairs around, already placing my head backwards. “Wait, I don’t even have scissors,” she laughed. “Or a comb.”
I still untied my hair, letting the curls fall over my shoulders, and Kâl’s light fingers ran down between the locks. Before I could control it, a moan slipped out of my mouth. “Should I ask for Min and Geia?”
She didn’t even finish her sentence that they both winnowed and dropped all the tools Kâl needed on the table. “Thank y–”
They were gone.
Kâl lifted her eyebrows and I shrugged. “So. Which length do you want?”
I recalled my almost shaved head from childhood, and the severe look it gave me. Even if I was young age wise, I was already so strong, developed and bigger than the people I was missioned to frighten.
I remember my adolescence, my curls appearing at the top of my head, still having shorter hair on the back, cursing every day when a rebellious strand would fall into my eyes during stakeouts.
I visualized my current hair, shoulder length, thick locks keeping me too warm, constantly tied in a bun, giving a wiser impression, feeling a bit more like a warrior than a mercenary. “Keep it away from my eyes and neck. The rest can stay.”
“Got it.”
The next minutes were spent in silence and concentration, only the sounds of the water being sprayed over my hair, the comb untangling it and the scissors cutting chunks of it created a bubble of relaxation in the room.
During the cut, Min and Geia deposited the meals and graciously disappeared, this time after accepting our most sincere gratitude.
Kâl started eating, using a fork to stab one piece of fried chicken or spicy potatoes, while the other hand kept measuring how much she was going to cut. “You better be focused on this.” I cringed.
“I thought you weren’t interested in your looks.” I couldn’t see her smirk, yet I knew it was there.
“Kâl.”
She laughed, stuffing her mouth with garlic bread. “Are you jealous because you can’t move? Here, open wide.”
I cursed but couldn’t help the chuckle from coming out. “You’re the worst,” I added before letting her fingers graze my lips. I was about to ask for her to use a fork, but she was already hand feeding me gently. I tried to swallow, close my mouth but I didn’t want to bite her. She withdrew her hand abruptly and I shrieked after chewing. “Couldn’t you have used a fork?”
“Sorry, you looked starved,” she giggled.
“You better be washing your hands before sticking your fingers back into my hair.”
“I’m done anyway.” By the time she said it, a mirror appeared on the table. But the walls around me were already showing me a rough idea of the results. Hours must have passed, because the lights were tamed, muffled, and when it had been a spectacular show of colors earlier, it was now a soft and cozy ambiance all around the aisles. “So?”
She gestured for me to grab the mirror. My curls were still noticeable on the top of my head but the rest had been neatly cut, the sides even shorter than the back, whitening my scalp. No hair obstructing my visions or tingling my neck. “Mission accomplished,” I smiled. She reached out to style the front and approvingly nodded. “Now, let’s eat for real.”
A faint genuine smile lightened my expression and some pinch made my heart wince. My eyes followed her settling on one of the chairs, bringing food onto her plate until it formed a mountain and dug right in, sometimes using her fingers. She seemed so young, her inner child possessing her for a moment, so delighted by the meals in front of her and the joy of savoring them. She lifted her gaze and crossed mine, before stretching her mouth into an innocent grin.
A weird feeling crept under my skin, but as unknown as it was, it finally felt good.