Lost To History

Chapter 1

With a huge effort, he sat up and glanced at the open book on his lap. He had a test the next day in Geography, and he was supposed to be studying, so he had a map of the Desert spread out before him. Unfortunately for future-Barclay, present-Barclay was so incredibly bored he couldn't bring himself to study it closer. Another wave of the awful feeling washed over him, pulling at his chest, and he groaned in dismay, flopping back onto his pillow. The dust mites scuttled into a corner, Barclay's eyes trailing after them. 

Deciding that perhaps he should actually do something, he flipped onto his side and glanced over at where Tadg Murdock, a fellow apprentice to Runa (and a tentative friend . . . maybe? It was hard to tell since Tadg was so grumpy all the time) sat on his bed. Copper-brown hair sprawled out across his pillow, a crisp contrast to his incredibly pale skin-- almost as pale as Barclay's, in fact (and that was saying something, as sometimes Barclay wondered if he even had any blood in his body at all). Thanks to the window being closed, there wasn't much light in the room, but he still managed to scan the book in his hands without much difficulty. 

He's going to ruin his eyes, Barclay thought. He should know: he'd stayed up many nights reading books, and his eyes were all the worse for it. 

Barclay waited for a few moments. The silence drew out, long and awkward, though he supposed that he was probably the only one feeling awkward. Tadg was buried in his book, most definitely unaware of how closely he was being watched. 

". . . what're you reading?" Barclay finally asked, desperate for conversation. It came out a bit more muffled than he would've liked since his cheek was pressed against his pillow, but he got the message across.

Tadg looked up, the interruption catching him off guard. "Reading?" he echoed, sounding confused. 

Barclay nodded in the direction of Tadg's book, open on his lap. "That book over there. What's up with it, anyway? You've been reading it for the past hour."

"Oh. Why do you sound so shocked? I can read, you know." Tadg rolled his eyes, picking the book up again in his hands. Despite his casual words, his touch was gentle, and Barclay could definitely see why. The book was so old and threadbare that Barclay worried that it might crumble into pieces of dust just from being flicked too hard. Even the title was so aged it faded into illegibility.

Tadg sat heavily back down on the bed, flipping through the pages with a sour expression. "It's just some old maps of the University-- old rooms, secret passages, the like. I first thought I could explore them, but then I went inside one and found a lot of rusty sharp stuff, so I'm going to give it to Runa instead. I'd rather not have someone contract some horrible disease while I'm staying here." 

He stared at the book for another second, then shrugged and tossed the book aside carelessly, the ensuing pouf of old, valuable paper against the pillow making Barclay wince. "Anyway, the maps are all different and contradicting," Tadg continued, looking almost annoyed. "One says there were three different cafeterias, but another one replaces one of the cafeterias with a library and says that it was just where people liked to hang out during lunch. A third one says the room didn't exist at all." 

Barclay squinted at the book, befuddled. Why would someone put all those different facts into a single book? Where did Tadg even get the book from? Why was he reading it if he was so annoyed by what it said?

Then again, Barclay couldn't begin to explain most of Tadg's actions. ". . . are they from different times, maybe?"

"I don't know," Tadg muttered, "but it pisses me off. I'd like to explore more of them, so I could get a better understanding of what the stupid thing is about--" here he poked the book with one finger, lips curved downward in a scowl, "--but they're so old I think I'd immediately swallow a lungful of disease and die."