2. The Book Return
Written by Icetoad of Jam City.[1]
The Darulk lifted the offending Fenrir by the neck. The lower levels of the Library of the Arcane echoed with the intruder’s whimpers.
“Let’s see… What were you trying to steal from us little wolf?” she said smugly.
She opened the tome and the Fenrir squirmed within her tentacled hand. Her confident smile quickly turned into something else. The Darulk turned her head towards the Fenrir and screamed.
“No! Who else knows?”
The Fenrir looked into her eyes defiantly and remained silent.
“Hear me, you dumb pup!” she said, as she shook him like a ragdoll. “What my kind has done to yours in the past will pale in comparison to what will happen to everyone you care for if you don’t answer me right now.”
“The only thing inevitable in Life is Death,” whispered the Fenrir. His Death Essence glowed in response.
“I said — Who else knows?!” she screamed again, striking him across the face with the book, her voice causing the bookshelves around them to topple over. “Tell me!”
“How about another tale… One of sorrow…” gruffed the wolf. “Chapter One: Of How Emilie Was Kissed.”
The Darulk’s jaw dropped, her tentacles flicked in anxiety, as she let the Fenrir fall to the ground. His utterance was not from the book she was holding. But it was a book she knew existed. A different book very few people knew about. The one in her hand told another tale: a tale of war.
“What is your name, wolf?” she asked forcibly.
“I am Loxio, Gladiator for the House of Death, Bane of Aleisa,” he said proudly.
“Aleisa? Ah, then you are the one who murdered her. She was my friend,” she replied. “Do not expect to leave this House alive.”
“I do not fear you, witch,” grunted the Fenrir as it tried to get up.
“You will get no mercy, but if you cooperate, maybe I will spare those you care about.”
The Fenrir growled softly, but licked his lips in submission.
“My name is Tinaris,” she continued. “Grand Archivist of the Library of the Arcane, and former consort queen to The Absolute.” She spoke in a singsong manner as the Fenrir began floating above the ground, Arcane energies running along his body. His limbs stiffened and his eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head and somewhere in his mind he saw his daughter, running home from sigla practice. She opened the door and Loxio saw the imposing frame of Tinaris awaiting her.
“You can’t…” mumbled the Fernir, still entranced.
“Oh, but I can,” she said, as her tentacles contorted in a horrible smile. “As I’ve said runt, you are already dead. But there is still mercy to be had. The words are in there, I can almost see them. Out with your secrets, and she shall live.”
Loxio clenched his teeth, and his eyes returned to normal. The Darulk approached his levitating body and kneeled.
“Tell me a story,” she whispered.
And so Tinaris, Grand Archivist of the Library of the Arcane, and former consort queen to the Absolute sat down to hear a tale that only three people on Massina had ever heard before.
— — -
A Tale of Sorrow
Chapter One — Of How Emilie Was Kissed
As recorded by Keymaster Rislene
The imperfections kept bothering Alteus. He was not the only one bothered by them, but he was our leader, so it fell on him to fix whatever went wrong when we played our music. We had grown too powerful, even beyond what our greatest prophets dared to foretell. We had mastered the secret notes. Their sound, their values, their purpose. Why then, would these notes come with such a burden? Why would our music be able to create this kind of grace, while at the same time coalescing the aberrations that spat on the very partiture we followed?
Perhaps if Alteus had focused on the formulae, the result would have been different. But he was not only occupied with the few monstrosities that had been sighted across the planes, he was in love with a Keymaster. This was heavily frowned upon by some of our officials. They plotted in the shadows, believing that love had made him weak, biding their time to make a move. They blamed him for the anomalies and accused him of keeping secrets from the rest of the Celestials. Their intentions grew darker as the sightings of imperfections around our walls increased. But Alteus was loved as well. They underestimated those who surrounded him, particularly me– for I was the Keymaster who shared his bed. And thus, as I learned of the devious plots to come, I placed my sword at the throat of the vermin who threatened our love and one by one exiled them to be devoured by the aberrations they so terribly feared.
There are many notes in this reality about love, with several different weights described across other tomes, so this one will contain one specific treatment for love. It is not mine or Alteus’ as we both hold our own truths. This one is about Emilie. Our first and only child. While we awaited her arrival, Alteus learned that his time was coming to an end. He would not meet Emilie. Our daughter would only be able to know him through the stories of others and the volumes that we so fiercely protect. By then, the aberrations we sired had turned against us and Alteus feared that we could no longer hold them off. Our Gatekeepers and Guardians were dwindling and the strength of our music was waning. He locked himself inside a tower for what seemed like eons, and leaderless we held against the surging evil. I thought he was mourning, but I was wrong. One night the doors to the tower blew open and he came out ecstatic with a new sheet of music in his hand.
That partiture can now be found in the Tome of Power — Chapter Five. It was everything that we needed. As we played the music, one by one the enemy vanished right before our eyes.
“Tempo! Tempo!” Alteus yelled as he continued directing the Confidantes. The larger aberrations were now being banished. They desperately tried to break the Gate of Heaven but the music was perfect. I wanted to kiss him, but he beat me to it.
“Rislene, my love,” he said to me. “You must know that with the last note, the Absolute will be banished. But so will I. His demise is mine as well. That is how this song must end.” He was holding back something more than tears. “I will not be able to kiss our daughter. But my love will outlive my existence. I will leave behind a kiss for her with every being that is capable of love. I will become the world, and the world will love her back.”
The music played loudly, brilliantly, as he used all of his power to hold back the relentless advance of darkness. I could see Alteus faltering at times, but we all kept playing. The ground trembled and it seemed as if reality itself was about to become undone. He somehow made his way back to me, gave me one last kiss, and whispered the note I am about to share with you.
“I have to go, dear. Take care of our daughter, for she will walk the world of mortals.”
And then the song ended.
— — — -
The Fenrir was still floating in front of Tinaris. How much time had passed? She was hungry and tired. The moonlight shone in from the upper levels, and she could hear the midnight conjurations somewhere in the background. She snapped her fingers and Loxio fell violently onto the floor.
“I can still remember that awful song echoing through the halls of Hêla.” Tinaris mused while unwillingly covering her ears. Immediately the hairs on her back stood up and her stomach felt warm. “Alteus had a daughter…” she whispered as she fumbled backwards into a chair. She stared at the unconscious wolf, lying utterly spent on the floor. “Alteus had a daughter,” the Darulk repeated once more, trying to convince herself of the information she had just gained.
After a few minutes, Tinaris stood up and walked a few steps behind the shelves as she returned to Loxio with a wooden cup filled with cool water. She considered him for a moment, and then threw it on his face. The Fenrir awoke, looking completely disoriented.
“Before we finish,” she continued. “I must know who sent you, Loxio, Gladiator for the House of Death, Bane of Aleisa.” She threw a second wave of water on his face.
“I… I was sent by the one they call Prometheus,” he replied in defeat, wiping his muzzle.
“Prometheus, eh? I should have known. Your master is playing a dangerous game, wolf.” She gazed out into the stacks and twisting labyrinths of bookshelves. She lifted the stolen book, regarding it again. The title gleamed in the darkness: A Tome of War — The Gate Beneath the Cauldron. The cover displayed the unmistakable symbol of Maiax amongst others. “How did he know about this book?” Tinaris asked impatiently.
“He’s collecting the tales. Someone he trusts told him the Library of the Arcane was in possession of a Celestial tome,” he shrugged painfully. “That is all I know.”
“Lies. No one would risk angering the House of the Arcane unless the stakes were too high. He’s no collector. Once we had realized the Tome was gone, we would burn the city to the ground in order to find the beadol that took it,” Tinaris responded thoughtfully.
“I’m no beadol, demon!” barked the Fenrir, instantly regretting his reaction.
“No? Are you trying to tell me you were just browsing through my book?” she sneered.
“Your precious tome would never need leave this awful place,” he growled.
“How is that Loxio? Are you some kind of magic wolf?” she replied scornfully.
“Yes. I can read a book once and remember all of it,” he answered defiantly. “I have memorized more books than you could ever read, witch!”
“So the information contained within would leave this Library, and we would never know,” she pondered.
Tinaris remained silent for a few seconds and then twisted her tentacles. Both of Loxio’s legs snapped like a twig .
“Now, tell me where you read The Tale of Sorrow,” the Darulk demanded.
“I did not read it!” screamed the Fenrir as he squirmed in pain. “She told it to me!”
“Who?” Tinaris barked impatiently.
“Emilie,” he answered.
Tinaris smiled for the first time in a while. After a few seconds, she snapped his neck and threw him into a corner.
— — — -
Daya liked her new friend. She looked scary, but what Darulk didn’t? And she suddenly found her new friend was extremely effective at fending off the mean Karkadons who bullied her after sigla practice.
“They’re just jealous that you can remember all the music on the sheet and they can’t,” Tinaris said to her. Daya enjoyed her newfound access to the mysterious Library of the Arcane. And although Daya still felt allegiance to her home in the Death quarter, there was something about the magic spells of the Librarians that she found enthralling. It helped fill the void she felt after her father’s disappearance.
“Thanks for showing me the purple smoke,” said Daya, as they walked towards the Chopping Block to watch some of the evening poetry. Her little ears pricked up, catching each little noise in the busy street.
“If you want, I can teach you how to do it,” replied Tinaris with a smile.
“I want to become a great musician first. My daddy always said that’s what mommy wanted for me.”
“Of course. What was your mommy’s name, Daya; do you know?”
“Emilie.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” replied Tinaris as she held the tavern door open for the young wolf.