Dozens of wooden shelves inlaid with gold have stored for centuries stacked volumes of books, rolled parchments, loose and carefully wrapped pages of books that have not survived as a whole for so many years. All with their own number and allocated space on the shelves. At least that's what it looks like at the front of the library, which has already gone through the mandated inventory and cataloguing. About halfway through, the shelves are empty, and books and other papers are stacked on the floor or chaotically dumped on shelves where they hide from the correct label and equipment for the rest of the collection.
And the best part is that this is what it looked like before I returned to the capital. So much respect for my ancestors and my family.
I need to get all the way through, to the very back, to the area with large tables and huge stained glass. It's also one of the few fire-related places in the entire Palace.
The new parquet floors are interrupted in the middle of the aisle between the shelves with books by a perfect circle of old parquet. The wood on the old ones is not damaged, but there are runes on it forever inscribed to the floor. Runes instilled in two circles, several times crossed by triangles inside. It's a complicated spell that I can write with my eyes closed, only I didn't formulate it. And I have no idea where I got the idea.
I looked around the nearest shelf. There are books full of not very interesting spells. The walls are decorated with paintings of ancient battles, and I can't say that I want to remember even one of them. The light coming through the stained glass windows on the floor nearby creates a magical display of colours, though I can't say I fully understand why Jonathan insisted on replicating the original glass. They are just colourful shapes with no deeper meaning. Aren't they?
Nothing around has a deeper meaning. So what answer am I supposed to find here? Unless the secret is hidden in one of the books, in that case I would have a lot of work to do.
"Your Majesty, I have some contracts here that need to be signed." Riley walked past me, spreading the hard files on one of the tables. How he found me so quickly is a mystery to me, he's been really good at it lately. He knows exactly where I am, like a tracking dog.
"Can't the Council handle this?" his long moustache still struggles with the shape of his elongated face. Over his white shirt he wears a dark jacket with a red collar. But even that doesn't distract from the pendant around his neck. His behaviour has changed in this regard, he suddenly spends too much time in temples. It doesn’t seem likely to me, he has found faith in his old age. It is more likely he would have inverted every icon in the Palace than he would have preferred faith.
"Not these," he pulled a pen out of the small gold inlaid box and handed it to me. "These are modified contracts for the supply of blue steel, reviewed by his Majesty, king Steven personally, and the import contracts of new gold from the provinces proposed by the Council, and the adjustment of the taxation of portals, according to your notes. It only needs your signature."
I took a pen and the papers. I don't remember seeing these new conditions before, I'll just have to trust that's what Jonathan is here for. I want to ask Riley about his faith, I just don't want to get involved in a debate about my family. Not now, but I definitely should keep it in mind. "How was Jasce's funeral?" I asked instead. I run through the text with my eyes. Slightly more expensive transport tax from the portal in large cities, which no one complains about. Well... great. I signed it and moved on to the second one.
"Very official. His wife hasn't recovered yet, and his eldest son isn't exactly the type for speeches or to host, I'm afraid." Riley sat down across from me. "I think the mourners were more interested in where you were."
"And where was I?"
"Busy with other duties and your most holy Service, naturally," he explained cautiously. "Your absence was represented by the Duke of Parl..." I looked up. "I mean, the Fourth Heir."
I didn't want him to correct himself. I’m surprised my father had gone somewhere. "Jonathan gave up sitting in his chair in the afternoon for some funeral?" Riley nodded with a serious face. "That's new… although, I think he prefers the title duke... because he loves the place so much you wouldn't believe it," I moved on to the last contract. It's the only one, I made sure I cared about every letter of my name. I know he will send it back to the North. "Has Gallien arrived yet?"
"Actually, he mentioned he came to see you, but he didn't want to make an appointment. Shall I ask him again?"
"Not yet, what do you think of him?" I handed him the dark files and pen and looked into the elongated face. Grey eyes went to the stained glass.
"About the Duke?" the surprise in his voice couldn't be hidden. I nodded. "Well, he's a bit quirky, which is probably because he's from Athran. And he writes incredibly long letters, the sentences bloom with unnecessary terms. But I think he's a good man," I nodded again. Riley checked the signatures and stood up. "I almost forgot, His Majesty, king Steven, wanted me to tell you he'll be out all day for some meetings. He said he didn't want to wake you up in the morning after everything that happened and he wishes to talk to you in the evening. I'll have dinner prepared."
"When he comes, send him here," I replied with a smile. One sentence made me incredibly happy one moment and terribly frightening the next. He wants to talk. That sounds really promising. "Thank you, Addison," I called to his back.
It's been hours since Riley left, and I still haven't figured anything out. The first thing I looked at was the spell on the floor. How it got there is a bit of a mystery. I know I drew it myself, but where did I get such an idea? I just can't explain it. As a little girl I could name the runes correctly, but putting them together in this order is something completely different. Even now, I would draw it differently. I'm convinced that Daniel wants me to find out how the formula got to the floor, but where do I start?
The nearest books will not help me in such a search. Apart from general chronicles, there is nothing here about my family's history or any spells we have invented. Such volumes are in the family library in the old mansion, Parlasse or on the other side of the Palace. So that won't be it.
I sat down on the floor next to the circle. I carefully touched the edge. The floor is cold, but that's about it. I'm starting to get mildly frustrated. The pulse of magic went to the old parquet floors and ended up there. I hoped that something would happen, the barrier would activate, maybe I would remember something. But nothing happened. The wood glistens and grins ugly back at me.
It occurred to me maybe I needed a fire, everything was burning here, but even though I let the fireball fly around and through the circle several times, absolutely nothing happened. I slammed my fist into the outer circle and all I achieved was that my hand now hurts. Damn Daniel and his riddles.
"Have you been here the whole day?" came the accusation.
"No, only the whole afternoon," I replied quickly. Everything here already annoys me, and his tone irritates me even more. What the fuck is he trying to achieve. No greetings, nothing.
"Have you eaten?"
"No."
"Well then, get up. You have to eat," he said in that reproachful tone.
"I'm not hungry. I need to figure it out," I looked up angrily, into the green eyes. He looks terribly exhausted, as if he hasn't slept for another night.
"Figure out what?" he asked, just as tiredly, as he sat down opposite. The dark circles under his eyes are just the beginning. His hair does not try to escape the shape of the hairstyle, but lazily clings to the wave into which he combed it. And the loose sweater underlines his tiredness. I'd never seen him like this before.
"You look so tired."
"That's probably because I haven't slept for a few days, An," he replied irritably, I can't tell if it's his fatigue or if he's just mad at me. Probably a little bit of both. Not that I do anything.
"Why?" I asked faster than I could think it through. I know why, I don't have to ask.
"Because you were gone! For two whole days!" he cried. It's not ideal, but at least a little life has returned to the tired face.
"But I came back yesterday," I said honestly confused.
"Of course... I forgot… that makes everything perfect, again."
"Are you angry because I came back?" I don't understand what bothers him. I can't understand where it comes from. I returned perfectly fine. That should please him. Besides, I was so tired that even my nightmares took a night off. We spent a quiet, peaceful night together.
"What, how did you…? Of course not," he hid his face in his hands. I dug my nails into my palms so that I wouldn't say anything. I'll let him sort out his thoughts first. He looked up, while he bit his lip. I hate when he does it like this. "I'm not mad at you. I have never been so afraid in my life. You disappeared and I didn't know what to do," he ran a hand through his hair. "And now you're back, and I still don't know. I... I'm sorry."
I moved up to him, hugged him. An incredibly painful feeling ran through my entire body when I realised that I had been treating him as my equal all along. Just as he asked. I throw my problems at him one after the other, without thinking about whether he can process it. He claims he is ready for it, but he is not. As usual, I have to remind myself he's so much younger, and none of the situations that seem ordinary to me, might not feel that way to him.
The truth is that a day or two away from home doesn't mean much to me. It's a couple of hours of discomfort that can lead to a lot of useful information. Now, for example, I have confirmed Narral is involved. And I'm also starting to realise where all this is likely to lead. Just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine.
But at the end of it all, all that matters is that I came back. I always come back. That's what it's all about. "I'll always come back, Steven. You don't have to worry about me," I whispered.
"How come I don't have to?" he protested quietly. "You're all I really care about and I should have told you before,"
"Steven,"
"I can't lose you, An," I pulled him to me. Why should he lose me? I've been in this world for a long time and I'm slowly becoming a relic. I want to reassure him with those words, but when he's so close, they seem like a lie. "I punched Emmett," he muttered exhaustedly, lifting his head.
"Why?" I breathed in amazement. Why for the name of Light would he do such a thing? Although it explains Emmett’s look. But Steven is relatively calm compared to his brother.
"We had a fight. According to him, I can't last a year in your world if I can't last a few hours without you. He was saying exactly the same thing as you. That you will always come back. And I'm overreacting. And that pissed me off," he supported his head with one hand, tracing the rune on the ground with the other. "I should apologise to him."
"Were you angry because you realised he was right?" the rune lit up slightly under his hand. If he continues, he may activate it. That’s quite unusual. Even given who he is. Not that it solves my problem with the whole fucking circle. But he could at least for now stop playing with the old magic. "You realised you can't stay in my world."
"No," he laughed, stopping fiddling with the rune. "I shouldn't have get angry, that's why I should have apologised to him."
"Well, if it helps you, I owe him an apology too. Just this morning, I was convinced Catarina had a hand in the whole mess. And it turns out not," he sneered. The green eyes finally came back to life. Those little sparks came back. "Steven, are you planning to leave my world? I understand enough is enough, this madness is not going to end just like that. Probably never."
"Quite the opposite. I plan to last much longer in your world." he grabbed my hand, stroking me gently. It’s a relief to hear him say that. But how long is much longer for him? It's a pretty fundamental question for me. Because long tends to get really long in my case. Like centuries long.
"He's right, you know. Sometimes you overact."
"I know, but the things that happen around you are pretty crazy. You know that, right?" how could I not. My whole life is like that. "I don't care what comes. I just need to be with you."
"You should think it over. You have no idea what you're getting into." I don't want to go back to everything we went through after the dinner. I'd rather forget that. But my world is completely different to his, crazy in proportion to it. He can only dream about most of what I normally do, and I can't afford to let him freak out every time I disappear for a few days.
"Hmm... should I think about whether I can sit on the floor in the library all day?" he joked. He'd better take it seriously.
"Just the afternoon," I corrected him. I was quite busy in the morning.
"And before? What brought you here?"
"Riley said you wanted to talk about something." if I'd gotten up when he came, I could have avoided explaining. "You need a break and I have a new shit show of things with a bad ending."
"Don't digress. You're looking for something here. And while I'm here, I can help you," he looked around quickly, ready to ask his questions. Hopefully he’ll never run out.
"Well, I'm actually trying to figure out how I'm still alive."
This stopped his questions. He frowned in confusion at the books around him. "Because you're Immortal? You know that, don't you?"
"Since when are you so funny?” he just smirked. “You have any idea how hard it would be to forget that..." even if no one and nothing reminded me. I fully realise my body works differently. "I thought before. I should have died as a child, right here."
"How would you..." he looked at the circle in which I was sitting. "the fire. Do you think someone tried to kill you?"
"It wouldn't be the first time, not even then... but I didn't figure it out alone. I talked to Daniel and," he opened his mouth in an unspoken question. "You don't know who Daniel is. It doesn't matter, explaining it to you would take too much time." it's not a complete lie, but other reasons hold me back. "Something happened that day and I either don't remember it or I remember it differently. I know there was a fire here. All around and I know I didn't make this up," I tapped my hand on the circle below me. "But I don't know what the fuck to do with that information. It has to be in that circle, something should happen. I tried everything, I even drove a fireball through the circle and nothing happened."
Steven was silent for a moment. He touched the circle carefully with his hand, but I don't think anything occurred to him. He can't read runes, so he just has to guess the formula. "It was supposed to protect you, wasn't it? From the fire, maybe something, someone else," I frowned, he smiled. "maybe we just need to repeat it."
"No," I immediately understood what he was thinking. He wants to set fire to my library, and by extension the entire Palace. “Steeles…” before I could add anything, he smirked, green eyes flashing. A fireball, much bigger than mine, is already hurtling in my direction. He's not kidding. This can kill me without any problems.
I raised my hand to defend myself. The next second, I realised I don't need to.
A bright blue barrier of pure power immediately rose around me, engulfing his ball as if nothing was at stake. And like a pulsating shield, it kept me safe inside. The sweet smell of old magic filled the air, the smell seems to me much more pleasant than the smell of new spells. I can feel it spreading around me. And it makes it impossible for me to concentrate on anything else.
It is the smell of home, it makes me feel safe. I can almost see the three of them taking care of me as a little girl. Damien holds me close to him and braids my hair, Stephan tries to force me to remember something useful and dad watches with a smile. Well... with a smile and a cigar.
I have to start laughing, I can't help it. It took me all day to figure out something so simple. And he just comes and sorts it out in five minutes. That's just incredible.
I reached out to the radiant mass. I can feel its strength even before I touch it. I know for sure it won't hurt me. I don't know how, but I know it. My fingers disappeared in the blue glow, the thing is completely icy. It does not hurt, I feel only cold, pleasantly stings. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Whatever is there, I have to find it.
Someone called out to me, a deep and familiar voice. He repeats my name. I tried to listen to the sound, but he isn't calling me. He just repeats it. My name. As if it were the most precious word in the entire universe. And maybe that's what it is for him. He himself wore a variant of that name so long before me and spread it all over the world.
I've never met him in my life, not face to face, and yet his voice is so familiar. And as reassuring as my own father's voice.
A picture emerged from the blue wall. I see a colourful stained glass window in front of me, glowing with much more vivid colours. I had completely forgotten about it, that's why I went there so often as a child. It can't be compared to the glass that is there now, this one made the colours dance on the parquet in a way I’ve never seen before. It's otherworldly, breathtaking and beautiful.
I stepped out of the circle. Not me, I'm still standing. Only everything around moves. A hand, a foreign hand, appeared in my view. I am part of someone else's memory. I hope the one I was looking for. The man's hand reached for one of the books on the back shelf, he must be at least forty-five. The thin skin is as light as mine, but not as firm. And he has the same ring as me, with a lion's head and seven rays, but his is decorated around the edges. Like the Steeles rings, only we got rid of it. He looked at the red-cover book he had been leafing through just moments before. The decorated initials P. A. H. on the cover glistened. I am not the least bit surprised they are inlaid with gold. In addition, the initial A is much larger than the other letters.
Immediately afterwards, the picture stopped in front of me, disappeared, and I was left with a view of the blue wall. And it disappeared with a pretty ugly swing, too. Warm hands caught me before I hit the hard floor. I buried my head in his chest and breathed in the scent of cedar wood. I was surprised how much I liked the smell, almost as much as the smell of old magic. Actually, I love it a bit more.
"I got you," he whispered, kissing my hair. I appreciate he doesn't ask how I'm doing. I don't know how to sum it up. I saw his memory, heard his voice. And I know where his diary is, the one his sons are so desperately looking for. So why did he show it to me? And how the fuck does Daniel know?
"Thanks, I am...” I kissed him enthusiastically, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the back shelf. I don't expect to see the red spine of the book from afar. That would be too easy. I wrote the letter H in the air and walked past the shelf where I saw it. I feel magic, the same as I felt in the circle. "Okay, I know you were obsessed with your little puzzles," I saw him draw an H and something happened. But that's not all. It's never the whole thing. "but I really don't enjoy it. So what the fuck do you expect me to do?"
"An, what exactly are you looking for here?" he leaned his hand on the shelf. The wolf's head is looking at me. Its laughing at me because I haven't figured it out yet, with those stupid mountains. "There's a lot of magic here."
"Yes, it is. It's here..." that ring. His damn ring wasn't there just for the fun of it. "Athran used to be part of the Empire, but it's not anymore," I looked at my own ring. Almost the same one that the hand wore in the memory. Only without all those peaks of majestic mountain ranges. "What an asshole."
"Who? I don't understand you at all."
"Him! My grandfather, he wants me. He wants to get to know me. Same letters, different order." I drew my own initials A. P. and H., they appeared in the air for a moment, and then vanished. The spine of one of the books in front of me turned red, I pulled it off the shelf. I flipped through it quickly. Half of the text is written in the old language, half of it is runes. And it's probably all in some kind of cipher. "Fuck..." the sentences make no sense. Paranoid bastard.
"Are you holding what I think you're holding?" he asked cautiously as I frantically flipped through the book. I suppose a man —well, a man— with a penchant for puzzles, probably didn't leave instructions on how to read it. But we'd better see for ourselves.
"I don't know what you're thinking. I mean, I could find out or make you tell me," I stopped. I give up. Everyone in my family is equally crazy. I took a deep breath and looked at Steven. "I don't know what you're thinking."
"It's Aner's diary," he explained admiringly. The way he pronounced the name surprised me. He looks at the book with the same awe.
"Yeah, it is, completely useless," I closed the book and handed it to him. He never came across as a believer to me. He didn't act like that way even when we met. And he doesn't look like someone who expects to get closer to eternal life through prayers. In fact, he doesn't strike me as someone who wants eternal life. He doesn't strike me as someone who would ask my family for anything, even in his own private thoughts. And I've never seen him pray, quote the golden book, I don't even know if he has a copy of it. I just wouldn't have thought he could believe in something like that. But just because I've never seen him do those things, doesn't mean he doesn't do them. "Do you believe in the Light?"
"I'm not sure. I go to the temple like others when it is expected. For a long time, those were just words I repeated," he stopped when he noticed my gaze. Honestly surprised. He wonders if he should continue. If he were to insult me with his words, he'd rather stop altogether. I'm dying to know what changed his mind.
"Until?"
"Until I decided I'd be in that damn battle at the border. I feel like it was the first time I really prayed," he hesitated again. This time I didn't encourage him to continue. I waited for him to do so. "I would do anything to get others out of that stinky hole. It was the first time I had a command and there were no more options. I allowed myself to be surrounded, far behind enemy lines. I told them all we had left was pray and wait for a miracle. And I honestly expected them to laugh about it and pass it off as a joke. But everyone knelt down. And I said the prayer and I really believed it. Every single word. I turned to the setting sun, hoping for salvation. And a moment later, your army came... And I know it wasn't a miracle. It couldn't have, but still..."
"I remember that," I was sent to help Athran forces caught in our own war. We had to fight our way through a host of enemies to get to the allies. "We were supposed to advance directly to the east, but part of the troops separated and advanced north. I had no reason to give the order, it just seemed so important at the time." I'm sure it wasn't because of some prayer, his or someone else's. I've never heard anyone's plea. Steven has turned white, looking almost frightened. "If it makes you feel better, I found out Edgar's youngest son was there much later."
"Should it make me feel better?" he returned my grandfather's diary. "It sounds strange, but I kind of want to believe it wasn't a coincidence," he added. He's right, there's something to it, and suddenly it doesn't seem like a negligible coincidence. I can't explain what led me to the decision.
"It's nice to know someone still believes in the Light and what we do."
"Don't you believe in that?"
"How could I?" I answered quickly. "I can't pray to my own grandfather. And as his offspring and Child of Light, I don't have much choice. Most people want to walk beside me, on the way to him," I smiled sadly. I don't think anyone should pray to him. However noble his actions seemed, he did everything in the name of his own ego. "His Heirs are left with only duties and roles that do not allow us to believe in anything other than ourselves and to meet the expectations of others."
"I didn't think of it that way. It's not a pleasant thought," he admitted.
"No, it's not," I have to agree with him. "but it's part of the Legacy." I've had a headache so many times after thinking about it for a long time. All people look up to us and idealise us completely. But for all the power at our disposal, we are quite ordinary. We have our own problems and petty disputes among ourselves. And all those statues and stories are absolutely exaggerated and in every way necessary.
"Can you read it?" he looked at the book in my hands.
"It's not such a problem to read it," I slowly started walking, while flipping through the book. I'm fed up with jumping from place to place. I want to take a walk. "Here they stand, where the four are not at home and the sun is passing," I read a random sentence and closed the book again.
"Who’s passing through what?"
"I really have no idea."
"Where are we going?" he opened the heavy door leading from the library to the hallway. With a click, they closed behind us. I led him down a corridor with paintings, past a statue of my grandfather, and up to a stone staircase.
"We're going to get you to bed," I pulled up the sleeve of his sweater and checked the time. "Half past eight, we'll still have time for dinner, but before we go up two floors, think about whether you want to stay in the South."
"I want to climb those stairs, spend the whole night and then the whole day, in the warm South, with you in my arms. We don't even have to get out of bed," he laughed on his way up the stairs.
"You may not have to, but the Council will be waiting for me."
Comments