Heirs of the Gods

Ch 42.2: A mirror away

The sky archive was like a city. Above the snowy Alps of Caelum, a tower of gleaming white marble, its thousands of tiers upheld by dozens of intricately carved pillars.

Although it appeared large on the outside, it was no comparison to its insides. A glamour, likely, concealing the actual enormity of the library. Absolute silence encased the building, even the scholars and priestesses that roamed some of the floors were absolutely quiet, immersed in the sanctity of such a building. A building that housed knowledge enough to fill a void.

Ella had no idea of how many levels there were to the library. It was seemingly endless, an order she couldn't quite figure out. She only followed Seren through the winding, maze-like levels, astonished by the enormity of it.

Each level was encompassed by cases upon cases of bookshelves lining the circular walls. Bookshelves that reached a roof impossible to see. Ella could crane her neck, following the line of the shelves into the ceiling, only to be met with darkness.

Not even her faerie sight could locate the end. It was akin to staring into a cave, where the light couldn't reach, and only the gloom was left. A humbling experience that left her feeling like a speck of dust in the world, amidst the enormity of this archive.

Here was Ella, just a tiny mote of dust, standing between centuries and centuries of enlightenment.

"This is a special library," Seren hummed, looking around the room, her gaze reverent, albeit less awed than Ella's. "It understands what you need and brings forth the books you look for. It is almost sentient."

Ella was inclined to agree. She'd been in ancient places, places with enough history to fill a vault. Dignified castles whose walls had housed generations and generations of families and stories. Yet, this was different.

There was something remarkable about this library. Perhaps it was the sheer magic it housed, the sheer volume of the information it guarded. Perhaps it had been granted a life of its own. The truth was that when Ella stared into the dark void of the ceiling, she was almost sure something stared back.

"I'll leave you to look for what you need, dear. Feel free to take what you like. I shall wait for you back in the parlour, one of my maids should help you find your way back without a problem." And with that, Seren departed back into the hall they'd come from, leaving Ella in the quiet of the room.

The silence was tomb-like. It wasn't a disconcerting one, like the Council's building, with its slimy cold quality. It was much more like the temple in Gerrathea. Cool and austere, but crackling with life. Otherworldly, a little pocked carved out of the material of existence, away from the general rules of the realm.

Ella looked around briefly, her gaze raking over the thick binding of the worn books around her, drinking in the sweet, musky scent of old pulp and ink. She closed her eyes briefly and cleared her mind, willing it to fill with the information she needed.

Images of Queen Saoirse's secret manuscripts, with their arcane symbols and runes that warned of demons and the great darkness. Forgotten words, older than time, speaking of a world before their own. Anything that might help them clear the shadows surrounding the mystery of the Wrachyd.

The sole piece of furniture in the room, a long wooden table in front of Ella, began to rattle slightly. One by one, neatly arranged on its worn surface, books began to appear.

Ella observed the spread. Ten books--some thicker than a palm's length, others merely a couple of chapters long. All of them age-worn, their pages yellowed and thin. Obscure symbols decorated their covers, cryptic lettering depicting languages long forgotten. It wasn't even necessary for her to touch the covers, she could already sense the wicked, crackling energy shrouding the books.