A song is bottled emotion. Captured to remember a moment. However, its power doesn’t end there. Once it’s released into the world, others experience and associate it with moments in their lives. It is why a song can live on indefinitely, its power unquestioned.
~Taliesin, God of Rhapsody
Patron God of the Bards
“D-did I do something wrong?” Crow asked after Gavin sent Otto away.
“Nonsense. You behaved how you should have. This isn’t related to that. Haven’t you always wanted to know what’s down the stairs in my storage room?”
“Yes!” Crow replied instantly. For the last eight months, he’d been reading the books on the second floor of the Sweet Onion, speculating what was down below. More than once, he felt like the books here were just a primer towards something more.
“Before that, there are some things you should know. Entry requires a bloodline totem, which is also a type of vow.”
“What is a Bloodline Totem?”
“You have one already; it’s just invisible,” Gavin said, and Crow looked down at his wrist, the place where Mugna had marked him years ago. “That’s right, it came from Mugna. It remains invisible because it’s more like a key than a vow. Now, the moment you opened your Source, a marking appeared on your body because of your bloodline. Does that sound familiar?”
“Growing out of my navel is a black line.”
“Show me.”
Crow lifted his shirt, and a marking was there. It appeared to be a needle—the fat end near the navel and the thin point near his chest. Only the line wasn’t perfectly straight.
“See how the marking sinks into your flesh? They call that Scarification—it’s like tattoos created by cutting, burning, or injecting the flesh with specialized tools. Scarification doesn’t just engrave flesh, but injecting it with herbs, objects, mana stones, and more can raise the flesh up.”
“Why do people do this? And why do I have one if that is the case?”
“Have you heard of body cultivators?”
“Yes, isn’t that what Song Lin and Song Xue are?”
“Correct, easterners focus most of their cultivation on body strengthening using Qi. That doesn’t mean they don’t use other methods or have ways to compensate for other shortcomings. Druids are the same, and this is the method we used to strengthen our bodies. A process we’ve created based on a Heritage, which is what your tattoo is. These tattoos link to your Source and passively work to strengthen your body, organs, blood, and more. By chance, do you know what your Heritage is?”
“I…maybe.” Crow hadn’t thought to mention it because he felt it was silly. However, his Source appeared to be a sapling, and he remembered what he was thinking of when it opened. He believed that it might link the two but hadn’t read or heard anyone that said such a thing existed.
“Crow, you are an intelligent kid. I will not criticize you for having your own thoughts. If necessary, I will debate it, but I won’t judge you. So speak.”
“It might be a sapling…” Crow told him.
Gavin pulled out a book from his Shield, quickly flipping through it. Several minutes went by in silence until the old man put the book away. His finger lightly tapped on the table, and his eyes vacant in thought.
“How does this relate to the totems?” Crow asked, trying to bring the conversation back on topic.
“Totems will adhere to your Heritage,” Gavin said absently, still tapping the table. “In most cases, we manually create the Heritage for the younger generation. They won’t be as powerful as a natural one, but it still carries many benefits. There are even methods to modify natural ones, but the natural Heritage will erase any modifications that conflict with it. We are not the only bloodline with a Heritage—Shamans on the western continent also have something similar.”
“Is there something wrong with my Heritage?” Crow finally asked.
Gavin’s head lifted, and he saw the concern in Crow’s eyes.
“No, just find it interesting. Do you know what type of tree?”
“Oak, I think.”
Gavin’s eyes narrowed, realizing that Crow was still hiding something. “You sure? How do you know?”
Crow sighed and knew it wasn’t something he could keep to himself. “My Source, during its awakening, needed an outlet. Father never talked much about how the awakening works, and we thought there’d be more time. So I latched onto the most powerful thing I could think of, which was Father Oak. While the power flooded into me, I imagined myself as an oak tree standing tall upon a hill facing the incoming storm without fear. Defying everything it could throw at me, refusing to budge one step. My Source built itself around that image, and now when I look inward, my Source appears as a sapling. It’s since grown, so I have no doubts about what it is.”
“That—what!?” Gavin’s jaw unhinged as it fell to the table. In all his years, he’d never heard of anyone doing something like that. Then again, the younger generation were all taught mnemonics to help them remember what to do during that time. Part of those mantras showed how they should visualize their Source as a sphere. No one ever questioned this, and he’d always thought those variants experienced something beyond understanding—situations like Crow’s.
It never occurred to him that those variants were because they lacked guidance. Gavin shuddered, feeling adrift. The foundational knowledge he’d never questioned in the past had cracked. The Druid Order always assumed the ancients were far more knowledgeable, and now Gavin wondered if that were true. Those ancient texts never explained the sphere, and no one questioned why. Now that he was, Gavin had already cycled through several hypotheses and testing scenarios—most of which he tossed.
“Was I wrong?” Crow twitched nervously. Gavin’s finger had stopped tapping.
“That I don’t know. For now, don’t talk to anyone about this, except Mugna.”
“Why—you think others can do what I did?”
“I do. My Source is a sphere, like a planet. The Shield might outwardly represent our power, but defined by that shape internally. I don’t want to influence your growth as it is no longer following a known path. Those are things you must figure out. The sphere path might only exist because it’s a simple method with known steps. That is why I don’t think what you did was wrong, but until we know, I don’t want you to influence others.”
“I agree with that.” Crow felt it wasn’t an unreasonable request and made sense. “Now this totem you want to give me—what does it do, and what is the vow?”
“Well, I think you’ve realized that the more powerful you become, the more your Heritage will cover your body. This totem is another key, but the vow is protection. It will prevent anyone from forcing you to talk about the things below and possibly render you unconscious. Also, you are essentially promising not to talk about what you see down there. It only protects our secrets, everything else it will let you share.”
“And if I share sensitive information?”
“One warning, then death. This is per topic, so if you discuss something and get that warning, stop talking. Never discuss that again, or you’ll die. Now, if it’s a different topic, you’ll still get your one warning.”
“This one understands.”
“Good. The knowledge you gained and made your own, the vow won’t prevent you from sharing. Just be sure to transform it into your own. Overall, you don’t have too much to worry about because this is the lowest level of permission. I’ve only ever heard of the warning going off when someone discusses the location of the library. If anyone asks, just point them to the Triskelion Archives.”
“Where’s that?”
“Damn, kid. Leave the manor more often. It is located to the west of the arena and is the most extensive library on the nine continents. The archive has archives. It’s that massive. Puts the one below us to shame, but good luck finding anything in that place. It has ten floors above ground and five below.”
Crow had never heard of the archives, not even in passing, and with his curiosity raised, he wanted to see it. Maybe he could disappear to that place during the day because there was sure to be good content there.
“All caught up? Good. Your totem is the lowest level, so you have limitations. Besides the exit, do not randomly open doors—it won’t kill you, but you’ll want to die. At least until I arrive to deactivate it. Also, do not carry any book passed the filigree that lines the floor around the entire room. You may check out a book; you’ll just have to ask the Librarian. You can only take away spiritual copies of the book, which will fade into nothingness within a few days.”
“So this vow is to keep me silent, prevent me from stealing, and grant me access to the place?”
“More or less. The vow becomes more intense as you achieve higher access.”
“Then, I agree. What do I need to do?”
“Just need a drop of your blood,” Gavin said after withdrawing a needle. He jabbed Crow’s finger and watched the blood well up from the tiny hole. The drop of blood fell into a small bowl with a mixture already prepared. While Gavin stirred it, the substance turned dark crimson, almost black. Using the prepared paintbrush with its fine tip, Gavin painted a symbol on Crow’s hand.
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The process took no more than five minutes, and when finished, Crow saw his teacher’s Shield light up the room and felt energy pouring into the symbol on his hand. There was a flash of pain, so brief that Crow didn’t even have time to scream out before it was over. The symbol on his hand looked like a simple spiral, but it glowed fiercely before he felt it move through his body as fast as lightning. Gavin couldn’t even stop it from happening.
The sapling on his stomach grew, and roots started forming at the base. A leaf appeared at the top, and the symbol Gavin drew branded itself on it before turning into what looked like golden filigree.
“Guess that answers whether or not it’s a tree,” Crow muttered, and Gavin barked out a laugh.
“Come, you now have access to one of Maddox clan’s biggest secrets,” Gavin told him and walked down the winding stairs.
They were well underground before the environment changed. The stairs went into what looked like a root before ending in a large wooden chamber. Light glowed from some sort of moss, and Crow remembered seeing this stuff in the sacred grove.
“We are in Father Oak?” Crow nearly shouted out in surprise.
“Smart boy, yes. This is one of his roots, and a famous workshop long thought lost. Truthfully, there are other entrances to this place, but they require a different totem than ours, and we cannot open them. But in the last five thousand years, our clan has seen none of those clan doors open. We assume the others lost knowledge of this place.”
“So if the person with the key, like you, were to disappear, we’d lose this place eventually?”
“Nothing that serious. You have access now, and that—” Gavin pointed towards a metal man standing behind a counter in the back left of the room. “Is the librarian. It doesn’t talk, but it can determine your eligibility to gain higher access—”
“Woah, what is that?”
“We just call him the Librarian; it doesn’t speak or move, but it has its own way of letting you know what it wants. Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s just an automaton. Truthfully, we aren’t sure what it is. It also knows if the clan’s custodian, which is me, dies. Upon my death, it’ll decide who the next custodian is, but only out of those people with access. If you are curious, it is a Clockwork Man, and we have books on them. This particular design came from the Clockwork Sect, which no longer exists. Or if they do, they went into hiding like we did. He is who you talk to if you want to check out a book or have questions about this place.”
Crow stared at it incredulously, ignoring that he was in the biggest library he’d ever seen; the Clockwork Man took all his attention. “It talks?”
“No, not like you are thinking. The knowledge appears in your mind, but it is an incredibly unnerving experience at first. Not an unpleasant or harmful feeling, but odd, like an alien presence, has invaded your mind.” Gavin turned to look at Crow and waved his hand forward. “Go on in, check out your second home.”
Crow stepped into the room and spun around, checking it all out at once. The floors were polished wood, but they padded most of the floor near the rows of books with a spongy material that vaguely resembled a rug. More impressively, the shelves rose two stories, and Crow made out a rail halfway up. A floating island docked at a set of stairs, and on the island was a ladder to reach the higher shelves.
“The island moves nearly in silence. Just grab a shelf and pull yourself along. You won’t need to go up there just yet, but if you want to explore, I won’t stop you.” Gavin explained.
It left the central part of the room entirely open. The domed ceiling had an intricate carving of what looked like a rising sun. Shelves not attached to the walls lined the back half of the bottom floor, and tables were arranged in organized rows in what Crow considered the front half. Nothing was arranged haphazardly, and it had a unique cross between artistry and flow. The place was enormous—enough to seat several hundred people without feeling crowded.
There was so much to see that Crow initially ignored the number of doors the place had. An initial guess put the count at twenty to thirty. The island was the only way to reach the ones up top. The symbol etched into the door with a crystal embedded beneath drew the eye, but not every door had one.
“Where do all the doors go?”
“The ones behind us are the ones I was talking about previously—entry points for the other clans. As you can see, the stone above ours is glowing, indicating its active. The others have been dark for a long time. If you noticed, they shaped the room like a teardrop, with the library and entry points at the fat side. Look there,” Gavin pointed at where the room came to a gradual point, and the largest door in the room was there. “That is the most important door.”
“That’s it? You aren’t going to tell me what’s behind it?”
“Nope, I’m not,” Gavin grinned. “Consider it your reward for completing a task which we’ll discuss shortly. Those doors without a crystal, they are private study rooms, you may use them, but you can see that is kind of pointless. Very few people come down here. But look closely, see the crystal above those doors? If you use one of those rooms, that crystal will light up, letting you know it’s occupied. There is a lock on the inside—another crystal. Just power it with your Source, and not even I can break it open.”
“And the others?”
“Not allowed to tell you, your privileges aren’t high enough. I can tell you there is one that leads to a room filled with Techniques, Abilities, and Spells. If I’m honest, several of those doors, not even I can enter, but you might. The assumption is they will only open to strong bloodline affinity.”
“And this task you want me to do?”
“Druid history, Skills, and Anatomy—memorize the books on those topics.”
“What!? It’d take me years to find all those.” Crow felt lost just looking around the place. Gavin started laughing as if he told the world’s best joke.
“Just ask the Librarian. See that shelf in the center of the room? Notice that it is currently empty and is circular as if it was an ancient column holding up the heavens? If you ask the Librarian to populate it with all the books on a specific topic, it’ll put spirit copies of those books on those shelves. You can even tell it books you’ve read, so it’ll filter those out in the future. Remember, it’s much more intelligent than it looks.”
“That is amazing…” Crow felt like the Librarian was becoming more and more unfathomable.
“It is. Even I find it fascinating, but I should warn you, there are some books it hasn’t cataloged, and I’m not sure why that is. But that can be another job for you. If you read them and talk to the Librarian, you can help register them.”
“How would I find them?”
Gavin gave Crow a flat stare and knocked him on the head.
“Oh, I can ask it to filter them.”
“Thank you for using your head,” Gavin smiled. “Anyway, my task should take you a month or less. Don’t get sidetracked by the unregistered books.”
“Do I get a desk?”
“Fool, look around you, claim any table you want. Just don’t mess with any of the tables with books strewn across them. You can read the books, but you absolutely must put things back the way you found them. Those old monsters of the clan are very—”
“Onery?” Crow supplied with a smile.
“Very. That’s a nice safe word, I like it.” Gavin laughed along with Crow.
“Alright, I understand,” Crow said. “So that means others come down here?”
“The requirements for gaining access are high. There are three methods: become a bard, like you, be a prodigy at a skill like Alchemy, or gain a Sapphire Shield—but a Sapphire Shield will only get them access to this room, no higher. That Librarian makes the rules.”
“Alright, can I get started now?” Crow asked, eying the place with a tilted head.
“Yes, but there is one more thing I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Why does that sound ominous?”
“In two weeks is Yggdrasil Day and the Flower Festival for the younger generation. You will attend.”
“B-but why?” Crow asked. He’d avoided most festivals, but that was because he knew very few people his own age. He barely saw his cousins anymore, and lately, he talked more with the hired staff and a giant dummy that couldn’t talk back—unless he was fighting, apparently.
“You really don’t know why?” Gavin asked and sat down at a nearby table. He indicated Crow should join him.
“I don’t.” Crow joined his teacher. “Training is more important than a silly dance, and I have to get stronger. I need to rescue my parents.”
“Crow…” Gavin sighed. “I sometimes forget you are a child, and we’ve rarely had conversations that normal kids your age would have. Did you know, when you are anxious, you rub those scars on your palms?”
“No,” Crow looked down at his clasped hands; the thumb of his right hand was rubbing the scar on his left palm. “That-what-I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”
“You cling so tightly to what you lost that you forget to live. You forget that strength and power are not about the muscles in your body. Power is a balance of mind, soul, and body. You do not lack intelligence nor physical ability. Do you know what we cultivate?”
“Power?” Crow asked in response, not sure what the question meant.
“No, we cultivate the soul. Your Source is linked to your soul, and to reincarnation, and eventually your Shield. Soul can’t grow through physical activity or reading books but through life experiences. Right now, you are the proverbial frog in a well and only see a small piece of sky from that little opening above your head. Enlightenment comes from life, and if you choose to remain a frog in a well, you’ll never advance. I do not doubt your dedication, it’s admirable even, but you can’t give up living in pursuit of power because you’ll lose your humanity. Do you think your mother and father would want you to sacrifice that for their sake?”
Crow absently massaged his palms and remained silent for quite some time. Gavin let him think, let him process because this was something the boy needed to hear.
“Thank you for your wisdom,” Crow finally said, his voice sounded small. “Mom would be mad at me if she knew what I was doing, wouldn’t she?”
“I didn’t know your mother that well, but from what I knew of her, she was loving and cruel in the same breath. She’d have beaten a dose of reality into your head by now.” Gavin paused, thinking about something, and Crow looked up at him, waiting. “Want to hear a story about your mother?”
“Yes!” Crow nearly shouted. “Please share.”
“During Yuletide, you must’ve been a newborn. She challenged clansmen to a drinking contest, and she was so drunk she provoked brawl after brawl. However, she didn’t lose a single contest. Conall rescued her at least a dozen times that night. They laughed and were back at it minutes later. People still talk about that night because it was everything a holiday should be—filled with fun, memories, and enough craziness to be memorable. She had an unconquerable spirit and enjoyed life to its fullest.”
Gavin started laughing, remembering the night and the headaches that woman caused. Crow’s parents were always up to some mischief, and the elders were powerless to stop them. However, they were always ready to lend a hand and jump in when things got bad.
“I’ve never said this to anyone, not even my father. That night Gideon took her away; it was like all life went out of her eyes. She lied to her own father, claiming I wasn’t her son—I know she didn’t mean it. But it was the instantaneous change that came over her I can’t stop thinking about. What kind of man inspires someone to that kind of lifeless obedience.”
“Your mother is a fighter—never forget that. She endures.” Gavin admonished harshly. It startled Crow, but he quickly nodded. “Alright, about the dance, there is another reason I’m recommending it. Luth told me that your martial talent is unquestionable, but that he can see a glimpse of real genius behind your fighting.”
“All the more reason to keep training.”
“Wrong, you walked into that trap,” Gavin chuckled. “The moments of genius are when you let loose and stop trying to control every step of the fight. Do you know what distinguishes a genius from the rest? The ability to embrace the natural world around them and free their soul from the negative. They don’t see tribulations as excuses to give up but as obstacles to conquer. I once asked a legendary dancer how she did it, and her reply was that the music told her what to do. But there was no music playing, and I told her as much. She said when you step into the other realm, you’ll see that the music was always there—you just weren’t listening. Fighting isn’t much different from dancing.”
“So my moments of genius are when I hear my music?”
“They are when you live in the moment, experience everything in nature all at once, and let it guide your actions. Opening yourself to everything is scary and freeing at the same time. It requires that you just let go. These are things you can only learn by living.”
“Fine, I’ll go to the festival,” Crow mumbled before his face flushed red, and he refused to look Gavin in the eye. “But do I have to dance?”
“Ha! You foolish kid. One thing I am certain of, when the time comes, no one will have to force you—you’ll want to.” Gavin laughed all the way out the door, leaving Crow sitting there still confused.