Night finally befell the empire, and I set off, a terrible idea on my mind.

Kinda typical how the only time I feel happy seeing the manor is when I am robbing it. I didn’t bother getting out of my black cloak nor my mask. A little part of me thought they would help hide my identity. The rest of me just regretted the fact I was lugging around what felt like a sail.

I looked for windows with no lights, which were most of them. the manor normally kept quite a few lights on and a few servants up. It was not only to prevent burglary, but also to flaunt their wealth to any poor fellow that happened to pass by.

Thinking about light I realised that I had thought this out rather poorly. To find a book, one would need to see. I decided however that I would solve that problem when I got in.

I stood atop a windowsill in a familiar motion and then reached up to grab the next one. Pulling myself up I reopened the cuts on my hand.

“Well, that isn’t good.”

I wasn’t particularly in the mood to try this again later, so I pushed on. I got up to the next sill and then jumped over to a balcony. Much to my dismay, the balcony creaked and cracked. I jumped to the next sill in a hurry and made my hand even worse.

I pulled myself up and looked to where I needed to go.

“Just two more stories up.”

That might have been a relieving statement if I wasn’t hugging a wall for my dear life. I had climbed the walls of the annex numerous times, but the manor was a different question.

I moved my legs to the side and hoped over to another window. After that I jumped up again. once more after that I managed to get onto another windowsill.

Now the question I had to ask was:

“How the fuck am I going to get in?”

I decided to just try and push open the window. The one I was at gave too much resistance to feel safe, but it gave hope.

With a hop over to another window I gave it another shot. I pushed and both me and the window went inside… well most of me.

I pulled my legs inside and stood up, hoping that no one had heard the clatter.

I had been in the library a few times, so I knew where the lamp stands were. in either hope or desperation I stumbled my way along the wall until I found one that was heavy. The weight assured me that there should be enough Iark to actually feed the wick.

The lamp was held in my bandaged hand, I felt a wetness and I had a suspicion that the wetness should not be touching books. When I put my thumb on the top of the lamp and pulled down a tab before releasing it.

In a flash of sparks a tiny flame was born, but that tiny flame was soon replaced by a bright light. The snapping of the mechanism reminded me why these were so expensive for something that looked like a plain bronze jug.

With the new light I looked to my hand and surely enough my hand had decided to change colours on me.

“I probably should have stopped back then.”

I was here now though, so… I headed over to the door. The library had a set of wooden double doors twice my height with golden handles. I ignored the obvious result of a door measuring contest and looked for a desk.

It wasn’t hiding from me, but it was small. The desk was made of some sort of dark wood not native to anywhere I knew of. I am sure the baron or even mother had bragged about it at least once. I cared less about the desk and more about what was on it, or in today’s case, in it.

I opened a drawer and found the large stack of pages, each one filled with book names and positions.

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I flipped through it for a while until I came across the first one I was looking for.

‘Brandor’s account of the divine in the Caltari Ocean.’

The library was organised in a way that brought pain to my mind. They were ordered in alphabetical order in the sheet, but they were stored by genre. Popular authors got their own shelf dedicated to them and religious/factual documents were kept closest to the door.

In what I felt to be a miracle I found the shelf I was looking for. Row 3 shelf 12. This shelf was dedicated to scrolls but didn’t have the fancy caps to keep them safe like the apothecary did.

I looked at the scrolls for a while until I found one that started with the name Burton. I didn’t care much to read the rest of the title again and just jumped in.

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How were the heavens made? How did they fall? These are two questions I could never solve, but I have made much progress.

The relics refuse to speak, and any records have long been destroyed. That is not to say there weren’t any records, the tales of that time live on through the mouths of many.

It is said that the heavens started with a god. That God created many things, the most known are their Blade, the Acharon, and the heavens themselves. This may answer the question of how to some, but it does not for me. I searched deeper, but this bore no fruit.

Instead of how, I came across something rather interesting. Most would think that the one to rule the heavens would rule the world. That idea seems to be wrong, there was a being far greater than even the god of the heavens. Some say that this higher god ruled an empire and had dominion over both sea and land.

The god of this empire held the deep loyalty of the god of the heavens. This raises more questions however as I did manage to get some information from a relic. The period of time is referred to as the Heavenward era. It seems to me that the era was named after the god of the heavens rather than the higher god.

This confusion comes to peak when the empire fell. It is said that they crumbled from within. Reasons as to why the empire fell apart vary, but the one I find most plausible is overpopulation. There was nothing beyond the heavens, the world was filled by an ever-growing population, and it caused unrest.

The fall of the empire, however, does not explain the fall of the heavens. Something must have happened that even the divine fell.

Much of what I have come across that fit the time period mention pieces falling down to the mortal world. I could not verify mentions of this outside the Caltari Ocean. There is something that lies below the water there that has long been speculated about before my time. My evidence is mainly how common the connection between them is, and the fact that a white fleet guards those waters.

Much like the heavens, the Relics refuse to speak more than a few cryptic words about the white fleet. What I find strange however is that every Relic I approached seemed to know of the white fleet.

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The rest of the scroll was some ending remarks and yet more speculation. The scroll would definitely be interesting in the form of a children’s tale, but it wasn’t.

I set the scroll back and checked the ledger again. After so many lines I finally found another book that mentioned the Caltari Ocean in the title.

‘The Grave Keepers of the Caltari Ocean.’

Heading over to the right shelf I found a scroll nestled between two books. Pulling out the scroll one of the books left on the shelf raised an eyebrow. I would get to that later, but for now I checked out the scroll.

Surely enough it was the one I sought.

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Most argue what lies beneath the deep blue of the Caltari Ocean without even stepping off land. I am different, I make no speculation. Whatever lies down there is dead a few generations over.

Many times, have I sailed that Ocean, many times have I seen the white fleet. The Admiral of the white fleet didn’t seem all that pleased with seeing me that much, but he never spoke. I would jest, but those eyes could kill, and often, they did.

One time I was taking a particularly special customer across the waves. This customer called themself a hero, and said they were from another world. I didn’t buy the second part, but they were recognised by quite a few of the guilds I asked.

Normally I wouldn’t care about customer’s identities, but this one had something the white fleet wanted. The white fleet just rocks up beside you, and you better not resist. They go In and take what they want. Luckily enough they don’t touch money, but sometimes those artifacts are worth far more than that.

The white fleet’s obsession with ancient artifacts goes beyond small items. This is why I think there is something down there. They dragged entire ancient structures into the depths. Either there is a giant pile of destroyed ruins on the ocean floor, or there is something down there that they bring the ruins to.

Trying to run away is a foolish act, their weapons are far greater than any cannon. Entire ships disappear in one blast, no matter how good the mage onboard is. even if teir weapons aren’t a concern, their vessels have no sails, but they go faster than the wind. Not even the finest mage of the modern day could achieve such a feat without blowing up the entire thing.

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I honestly don’t which one was worse. On one hand there’s a children’s story, and on the other is a story written by a drunk. I was kind of glad that I couldn’t steal anything thanks to the wonderful red trail of evidence. Bringing these outside of the library would be devastating to the intelligence of others.

With a sigh I brought my hand to my forehead and looked at the book I saw before. Everything else was horrible, might as well read something for myself.