I believed I needed to become independent in this world, considering I trusted nobody, but it was hard to do such a thing when servants tried to dress you and feed you and your alleged parents asked some sort of guard dressed in a buttoned up tunic, plain black pants, and laced boots to follow you around.
Softly, I sighed and shook my head at my own foolishness. I was stupid to believe that I could do things on my own so soon into this strange world, and to expect answers so soon was about just as foolish, if not more. I merely stared at his legs as he walked, keeping my head lowered in shame.
Something was sticking out of his boot- a handle of sorts. It was black and had some sort of grip on the side, making it something easy to hold in hand, but remembering the strangeness of this world, I gasped.
It was a knife.
Wren glanced behind, his blue eye meeting at mine with a hint of concern, but I waved him forward and he brushed off whatever display of shock he heard and continued my short little tour to the library.
It was hard to even tell him where I wanted to go, but thank God he understood my horrible charades enough to come to a conclusion in under a minute.
From behind, I noticed a couple habits of Wren’s as he walked. For one, he liked to tug at the single golden hoop earring on his left ear- a short, quick tug that went by so fast I doubted it happened until I saw it again. And second, he couldn’t decide whether to hold his hands in his pockets or let them swing to the side, constantly changing. I was halfway ready to yell at him to make up his mind when we reached a glass doorway, windows to the sides covered in grilles and shining like crystal, not a single speck of anything tainting their cleanliness.
From the outside, I saw dozens of aisles between dozens of bookshelves, spanning from where we stood all the way across the widened room, each shelf filled with books of all sorts: thin, thick, red, blue, green, old, new, etc. Windows covered the wall opposite of the doorway, brightening the room with the beams of a morning sun, leaving the red tiles and brown shelves encompassed in an soft, orange glow.
I immediately reached for the doorknob and thrusted the door open, not bothering with the amount of force I put into it, and the slam of the door behind me made me flinch, spinning on my heels, only to make Wren shake his head and walk in after, inspecting possible damage done to the glass from the door’s knob. Fortunately, there wasn’t a single mark. Even if there was, however, I was apparently royalty, right? Would they make me pay for damages?
I gazed over the vastness of the library, glanced over the brown walls adorned with numerous painted portraits, all of men who looked too common to be Kings and almost simple like librarians of some sort. I “had no voice” to ask of it, however.
Stepping through the first aisle, a scent wafted my way, and I was filled with a feeling of nostalgia and knowledge, a sweet smell of paper books, both old and new, warming my heart. I’d gone through a binge read of non-fiction once, and it reminded me of my time in the city libraries and my grandmother’s study.
The entire library was large- almost too large, but if I truly wanted to understand this world, I would have no choice but to be patient and skim through them all, picking up what was important and what was not.
Pausing, I reached for a book, and the mere touch of its spine made the tip of my finger buzz, almost pulsing with some sort of tingling sensation, and I snatched my hand back, causing it to stop. My brows knit, and I tried it again, and sure enough, I felt the sensation of vibration through my finger, spreading from the tip down my finger and to my hand, shaking my flesh with a sudden tickle followed by numbness, as if it were “falling asleep.”
I pulled away again, and it stopped once more. Trying it a few more times, I decided to move on to other books, and only about half of the six others did the same thing. There was no telling why such books did that, but I reached for the first one and continued to pull it out, letting it send the strange sensation throughout my arms at all parts where the book’s rough, leather cover touched. My hairs stood up straight as an arrow, bumps sticking out from pale flesh.
The Rules of General Fire Spells
It took me a good five seconds to truly processed what the book was titled, and as soon as I did, my hand instinctively went to my lips and a giggle escaped. Magic? Is this library fiction? I can’t believe there’s something like this inside of a place that leaked of such knowledge.
Wren walked over and glanced down at it. “Interested?” he asked. His words startled me with a jump, the book slapping between my hands and promptly being slid back into its place. I shook my head and walked further down the aisle, Wren following close behind like a baby duckling. No, like the spy he was.
My search took me a few more minutes, but I found a general history book on Etaeris and breathed an audible sigh of relief, taking it into my arms to continue searching. Steps sounded behind me, headed away, and I spun to see that Wren had walked off, but the door hadn’t opened, so he was still in the library- somewhere.
Moments later, he returned with a stack of five books- each held so easily in his well toned arms. I blinked at him.
“History, right?” I nodded.
The library only had books in it, not a single place to sit, and it was terribly inconvenient, making me wish for my own modern libraries with their seats and computers with internet- albeit slow internet. I liked the smell of the desk receptionist’s vanilla coffee mixed with books, both old and new, and the quiet atmosphere broken only by soft whispers felt calming, serene- a true place of calm.
This library had only the scent of books and the silence of emptiness, but it would have to do. I wasted no time to read, dropping my stack of books to the ground, my arms losing tension and thanking me for the release of their burden. They fell with a loud slap and thud, and Wren raised a brow, but I ignored it as I maneuvered in the inconvenient dress into a sitting position. Trying criss cross was far too difficult, the top of the skirt too tight to let my legs spread that wide, so I resigned to flattening them straight forward, a book in my lap.
Wren said nothing and sat beside me, reaching for a book that I wasn’t bothering to read at the moment, and for the next few hours, we sat in silence together, reading the history of this world- a history he likely knew all about already.
He may have been sent to watch me, but his aura was too soft, the feeling around him felt almost warming, like the sun’s glow, and with each word he spoke, there was genuinity in them, nothing faked and nothing hidden.
I was suspicious of him still, but it felt I was seeing Wren’s true self, and it felt almost unfair that I wouldn’t return the favor, but I didn’t trust him enough for that. He could have the same aura as my grandmother and I would still be wary of him.
At least he didn’t watch me invasively as I read or ate.
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