XI. Filling the Blanks

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The two men standing before Alia seemed to be more upset by her hysterical tears than she was.

"Oh Gods," said Kitrell.

"No, not again! What's wrong?!" said Caddock in a panicked tone.

"Did--did you see it?" she sobbed, focused only on the disintegrating magic.

"I take it the magic symbols aren't supposed to get all swirly like that?" asked Kitrell.

"Please don't cry," said Caddock.

Alia sat down heavily on the floor, cold stone wall propping up her back, and tried to corrall her painful, body-wracking sobs into something more like normal breathing. "I'm-- so-- sorry," she choked out.

"Look, get ahold of yourself, and then you better tell us what's really going on," said Kitrell. He stood before her staring down with a look of either--she couldn't decide--faint concern or irritated disinterest.

"Kit, be nice,"  hissed Caddock. Well. The latter, then.

"Where should I start?" she whispered weakly.

"Well, you could tell us who you are," said Caddock.

"I'm Alia," she said shakily. Kitrell Silvertongue paced to the other corner of the room and rolled his eyes, but she tried to ignore him. "I'm a serving girl here and also a student--sort of."

"Sort of?" asked Kitrell, hard brown eyes on the Book and its stand.

"They won't let me take all the courses or swear as a Scribe to the Book, but I have the magic so I get to take some of the classes. But I have to work here to earn my keep and housing. I can't stay in the dorms with the other pupils, you see."

"Hm," said the golden-haired man.

"And that's why you get to look at the Book, then," said Caddock cheerfully.

Um... Alia gulped back fear. "Not exactly," she said hesitantly, voice beginning to wobble again.

"Then why exactly?" Kitrell suddenly spun to face her again.

She suddenly found that she couldn't meet his dark, penetrating eyes. "Um, Head Scribe Palot won't allow me to take the class where they study the Book. But Master Rubart--he's a Scribe--he said that my sense of the Book was strong enough that it'd be a shame to ignore, and so he gave me the access sigil so I can read the Book. But I don't exactly have permission to be here."

"Ah."

"But why do you keep crying?" asked Caddock suddenly, looking even more confused.

"I think something's wrong with the Book," answered Alia, speaking speaking almost inaudibly. Somehow saying it out loud made it seem more real--and more terrifying.

"I thought that was impossible," said Caddock. His brows had crinkled up and his lip had almost a petulant twist in it, and Alia was struck yet again by his youth. Sure, he was older than she was, but somehow one always pictured Heroes as men in their prime.

For a moment, she wondered about Kitrell's age, but he could have been anywhere from 20 to 35. Realizing that both men were staring at her, waiting for answers, she finally pulled it together enough to wipe the tears and snot off her face and keep talking. "It's supposed to be," she said dully. "But I noticed right after the Reading ceremony that something was different."

Caddock still looked confused, but Kitrell crossed his arms and slouched back against the wall with a thoughtful nod. "You think our Story has something to do with it? That's why you want to talk?"

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