After two hours of busy work and several needle pricks, Aldous and Bayard entered the room. The ginger looked around before addressing Malia, “I see the boss still isn’t here… Can I talk to you for a bit?”

“Sure.”

“Listen, no matter what agreement the boss is looking to strike with the Council, he will probably convince them by saying he’ll take responsibility for your actions. He wouldn’t tell you that, but I think you should know. Please keep it in mind.”

“I will.” Malia promised him, “Thank you, Aldous. I came here to help. I won’t be a burden.”

“That’s good to hear.” Aldous approved, “That’s how we all feel, after all.”

Gorken arrived moments later, “Good, you’re all here. Despite their reticence, it seems the Council will allow you to stay, Malia. Aldous and Bayard, you won’t be punished for leaving in order to help me. Of course, I gave them my word that such a thing wouldn’t happen again.”

Bayard spoke for the first time in hours, “You shouldn’t have protected us. Each time you make an oath to them you bind yourself further to the will of the Council.”

“The oaths I make are my own problem, Bayard.” 

There was silence for long moments. Malia felt as if she had to say something, but nothing came to mind. Rose was the one to take down the invisible wall, “That’s enough children. You’re all tired. Don’t start bickering without a proper reason. Why don’t you show Malia around? This place is huge, she will need help getting used to it. Even I get lost sometimes.”

“Actually,” Malia quickly joined in, “I would like to meet the man you mentioned before. Konrad, right?”

Gorken exhaled, “That’s a good idea. I want to ask him for advice on a few matters. Let’s go.”

As they approached the door, Malia turned around, “Thank you for everything, Rose.”

“There’s no need to thank me for every little thing, dear. When I’m done I’ll have your clothes taken to Gorken’s chambers. Come by whenever you feel like it.”

As they made their way through the stone halls, Malia aimed to memorize the path they were taking, along with the tunnels and passages they came across. When the group got to their destination, she was surprised by the large amount of books and scrolls that greeted them. Shelves, walls and tables were all covered by volumes and papers. She didn’t think that the headquarters of a struggling rebellion would have such a big library. Sitting across the room, writing on a piece of parchment and intently talking to himself was an old man, his eyes hidden behind thick lenses.

“Konrad, we’re back.” Gorken called out.

“Your timing is always the worst,” the old man complained, “I’m busy. What do you want?”

“Well, I wanted to ask for your advice,” Gorken was purposely nonchalant, “and in return you may get the chance to look at an immortal book brought straight from the northern palace.”

“An immortal book?” Konrad raised his head, “Perfect timing. Sit with me, make yourselves comfortable. So, what do you want to talk about? Quickly now.”

As they approached the table, Aldous whispered in Malia’s ear, “Weird, isn’t he?”

“What’s weird about doing what you can to get what you want? If anything, he’s honest.” 

Aldous replied with a light shrug.

“First of all, I want to introduce you to Malia Daimonlance.” Gorken said after they were all at the table.

“It’s a pleasure.” Konrad held her hand, “I assume it is thanks to you that I will get to take a look at an immortal book.”

Gorken continued, “We call ourselves a rebellion, but that’s no more than an empty title to keep spirits from dissipating into despair. All we do is scavenge for food, train for battles that never come, and survive day to day. That’s how it’s been since I can remember, and it didn’t change after I became leader. But now that Malia is with us… We could start planning for more than immediate survival. We could even hope to understand what magic is. Immortals have their castles, their walls, better fed soldiers… But if that wasn’t enough, the threat of such a nebulous power has kept us away from even aspiring to stand our ground.”

Konrad stroke his long beard, “True, true. Magic is a fearsome thing, even for outstanding warriors like you, boy.”

Malia was as delighted as she was frightened by Gorken voicing his expectations. Maybe he could help her uncover her purpose and guide her stray resolve. Maybe that would give meaning to her yearnings and her doubts. But what if she wasn’t good enough? No, she was. She had to be. She was strong.

“Malia, was it?” Konrad seized her attention, “I don’t care much about Gorken’s ambitions for a future I won’t be here to witness. Yes, yes, I’ll give you counsel if you need it,” Konrad appeased Gorken with a dismissive hand motion before the young man could respond, “But! I’m intrigued by the book you carry. I can’t seem to understand the characters on the spine. Could you hand it over?”

Malia complied. Konrad grabbed the book with both hands. He fixed his eyes on it, examining it intensely. He lifted it over his head, placed it on the table, flipped it around, rotated it and smelled it. At one point Malia grimaced, convinced Konrad was about to lick its cover. Thankfully, he stopped before his tongue made contact with the leathery surface. Then, the old man wrinkled his eyebrows, “This is not an immortal book.”

Gorken began to apologize, “Forgive me, since it was in the immortal palace, I assumed it-”

“This is much better than an immortal book.” Konrad’s face sparkled with glee, “These characters are the same as the ones on the mysterious documents we found in this very room decades ago. This here is a lost language… This is a book from before our records were written! From before our time!”

“Can you read it?” Malia stood up, thrilled. In the span of a single conversation with an old human, she had learned more than in her long hours of research inside the fragrant library of the northern palace. She had never gotten used to the scorching fluttering in her innards each and every time she confirmed no immortal knew, or cared to know, about the origins of their island kingdom; about how the current order had come to pass. Maybe that small forgotten book would prove her disquiet wasn’t unwarranted. That it wasn’t an escape from her pain or from her aimless fear. It couldn’t be just that.

“Ah, how I wish that I could!” Konrad cried out, throwing his arms upwards, “But I may know where to find the only person who can.”

“Who?!” Malia and Aldous shouted at the same time.

“The Oldest Witch, Kadem.”