The Nightly Montage

The Librarian's Promise

There was a soft rapping on the door. Glydan glanced up from his book. 

Who could it be at this hour? Osana, Quill and the rest of them had long retired for the night. For a moment Glydan pictured the King's soldiers bursting in, taking him prisoner and razing the Library of Memories to the ground. It would be the end of everything The Promise had fought for. This library was their key to winning the war.

"Hello? Is...anyone there?" asked a voice.

Glydan roused from his chair. He padded to the door. After checking through the peephole, he opened the door to greet the young man, whose gaze met his with uncertainty. Soot and dirt from the streets stained his otherwise well-kept attire. 

"Can you erase my memories?" the young man asked. 

He looked barely past teenagehood, Glydan thought sadly, and yet his voice was scarred by the blades of war. 

"Come in," Glydan said, ushering the young man into the library. "My name is Glydan. And yes, I can. But"--Glydan gave the visitor a meaningful glance--"I'll have you know that the Library of Memories serves as a place to learn, and remember the past. Knowledge is a powerful tool in times like these." 

The young man nodded vaguely, unfazed by Glydan's words. 

Glydan sighed and rummaged through his desk. He watched the visitor survey the library. The Promise had acquired an impressive amount of books, scrolls and relics that filled the library's shelves. The collection extended into the far side of the underground space. Milky moonlight filtered through window slits above the bookshelves. It was risky business, keeping their greatest weapon hidden beneath the King's nose. The Promise was careful in deciding who was privileged to the knowledge of the library's existence. Glydan would be notified if he was to be expecting special visitors. 

Which made it all the more curious; who was this young man, and how did he come here? 

Glydan emerged from behind his desk with an oil lamp. He lit it. Its glow cast a buttery light over the library. "May I know your name?"

"Forrest. This library is yours? All of it?"

"It is for anyone who needs it. Is there anything else I could do for you? I know others who can provide you with assistance."

"No thanks," Forrest said. "I...rather not get involved."

"Very well," Glydan sighed. He proceeded to lead Forrest further into the library. Their footsteps echoed softly on the dusty stone floors. The faint sounds of gunshots, cries and fire could be heard from above as the King's soldiers continued their raids.

Glydan reflected on a past meeting with the Promise. Brainwashing, Quill had declared. They had found evidence of a spell used to corrode all sense of compassion in men's hearts, replacing them with blind loyalty towards the King. That discovery was more than a year ago, yet the notion still plagued Glydan's mind. Magic of that type...

"I thought the King had destroyed everything from the Old World," Forrest ventured, drawing Glydan out of his thoughts.

"Not where I'm concerned," he said gravely. "It is imperative that we preserve our knowledge of the past. Our ancestors' magic will prove crucial to building a better future. There is plenty to learn." 

Forrest stared at him. "This is war. We do not have the luxury to sit and learn anything, if it isn't survival."

"You are correct. But I do intend to use this library to its full extent. Hundreds of war strategies, peace negotiations, battle tactics that have been reused again and again throughout history...You don't need to concern yourself," Glydan said with a wry smile.