Enlightenment - Chapter XIV

Chapter XIV

It couldn't be morning already. She had only just set her head down.

It didn't make sense.

Wasn't I supposed to do something? she thinks as she stares at the ceiling.

She tries, but cannot form a solid thought.

I should get up.

Still staring, she reaches over to her night stand, feeling for her hairbrush. Her fingers close around the empty air.

She sits up, looks over, and finds her brush really isn't there.

I always put it there.

She gets out of bed, searches the floor, underneath the bed, everywhere, but her search ends in frustration.

Whatever! I don't need a stupid brush!

She gets dressed and heads downstairs, then lays blank scrolls, reagents, pens, and inks on to her usual work desk.

Can't forget my water.

She grabs her pitcher and fills it with water crystals. She takes the tuning fork and gives it a quick rap on the desk. When it touches the crystals, they liquefy in an instant. She takes s sip and feel the coolness trickle down her throat into her stomach.

Why don't I feel hungry?

She walks over to the food cabinet, scolding herself for storing food in the same area as the books and scrolls. She shouldn't keep food here in the library, she certainly wouldn't want anyone else eating in this room, but she didn't really have anywhere else to keep it.

Maybe I should remodel the top floor. Expand it.

She opens the cabinet, and finds it empty. Empty of bread. Empty of nuts. Empty of dried fruits. Empty of everything.

Wha-

Before the thought is completes, glass shatters behind her.

Fear fills her. Fear of water damage to her scrolls rather than how the pitcher could have broken.

She turns. There was no spill. There was no pitcher. There were no supplies.

She scans the room.

Someone's here. Someone has to be.

A blur crosses her vision.

The chairs are gone.

Another blur.

The books are gone.

And another.

The shelves are gone.

What's happening!

Her head sweeps right, and it's as if her gaze erases the room. As quickly as something enters her vision, it fades away to nothingness.

Panic takes hold. And she has no where to go. All that is left is a small circular platform of wooden planks, floating in a sea of white.

My store!

She opens her mouth to scream...

* * *

...and wakes up.

The dream quickly fades, but the fear remains. She sinks herself deeper into the warmth of her blankets, looking for safety and comfort for a danger that doesn't exist.

Why am I so tired?

Then she remembers. Not the dream, but the night before.

Someone broke into her house. Someone broke into her cabinet.

She bolts upright, and jumps out of bed.

She pulls out the chest from beneath her bed, and checks to see her books still there. Even after moving them last night to keep them safe, she would lie in bed for only a few minutes, then have to get up to make sure her books here still safely tucked away.

It didn't make sense.

Why weren't they taken? It's what they were after. Why weren't they taken!

She closes the lid, and considers casting magic trap on the chest, but decides against it once again. The tiny explosion, should someone trigger the trap, shouldn't damage the books, but she was too paranoid to risk it right now.

They made it. They were inside. No one was around. They broke open the cabinet... and they took nothing!

She checked everything else she could possibly think of. Everything was still there. Not even a single reagent was taken. The only evidence of intruders was the broken cabinet.

It didn't make sense.

Any of the books in there were worth a fortune to the right buyer. They had to have known. Why else break in?

The fear and confusion built up inside her. She checked to make sure her books were safe one more time, yet somehow seeing them all there made her angry.

It has to make sense!

She needs a release.

The book of necromancy. Pain spike, strangle, and poison strike seem a lot more attractive than they had these previous weeks.

She picks up supplies, walks into the forest, summons Reagent to her side, and vents her anger.

"In vas nox!"

A poisonous cloud envelopes a fly, and it drops to the ground.

The harsher movements of the necro spells were what she needed. No fireballs today.

Flies, grasshoppers, snails- They all succumb to Melfina's necromancy.

Where's another!

Birds sing overhead and a rabbit hops across her path.

There!

A fly disturbed by the rabbit's dash drops to the ground.

The bushes rustle behind her.

She turns, hoping for something to attack her. Instead she finds Stark.

"Mel?" he asks. "What are you here? I've been following a trail of dead insects."

"Oh. Yeah. That was me," she answers while quickly hiding her hands behind her back, attempting to take attention away from the book of necromancy. It does the opposite.

Face still, voice quiet, he asks, "What are you doing with that?"

Before she can answer, Reagent walks into view, and Melfina's heart leaps.

Stark pushes Melfina behind him, unsheathes his sword, and he leaps as well.

"No! Wait!" she screams, knowing it would do no good.

"In sar!"

The spell strikes the paladin, and he releases a cry of pain.

"Reagent! To me!"

The horde minion obeys.

Stark slowly turns, the shock apparent on his face. "You said you were just going to read it. To study it."

She was fearful of his anger. His pain was much worse.

"I... I did. I tried. But... it wasn't enough. It... There's going to be... The Reunification... It's not illegal anymore..."

"Illegal! I don't know what the archduke is doing, but you're headed down an evil path. Don't do this, Mel. Don't. No wonder you feel different! You're being corrupted already! No wonder you've been targeted! You have to stop! Evil attracts evil!"

"You... I'm sorry, Stark. But the way you're always so... That's just stupid! Necromancy isn't evil. It can be used for evil, but so can a sword! That doesn't mean it can't be used for good!"

"Of course necromancy attracts evil! It makes sense! Why else would thieves be attracted to your place!"

"That is the worst logic I've ever heard! My books of course!"

"That doesn't make any sense! If they were after your books, then they would have taken them! There's only one book I can see that could have lured them, and you're holding it!"

"You... Stop..." She screamed. "This is hardly worth anything!" she says while shaking the book of necromancy in his face. "Do you have any idea how much more the Tome of Lost Knowledge is worth! I can't even come up with a number right now!"

And that was it. There was no number. No amount would ever get her to part with it. It was the only copy known to exist. But she had seen another. In her childhood. And in her childhood, it was another who was its caretaker.

He couldn't just have it stolen. With all his power, there were still some bounds as to what he could do. He was the High Father. But he didn't have to have it stolen. With all his influence, he just needed to know that it existed. He was the High Father. He would force her to give it up somehow. And she didn't know how he could be stopped this time.

"Stark. I know who was responsible. It was Wayland."

* * *

Looks like you stepped out. Don't mind me using your paper to write this. I heard about yesterday. Just wanted to check in on you. Take care.

Draven