The door to the library opened and then closed with a loud creaking noise.

If any part of the tanai’s mind registered the sound, recognized the need to have the hinges oiled and decided to schedule an inspection by one of the workers, he definitely did not make it show. He just kept reading, with reality simply manifesting itself on the fringes of his immediate consciousness.

Only when a chair scraped along the floor then creaked under the weight of the newcomer, and a voice saying “Anhs I need to talk to yous” reverberated loudly from the walls, then the conclave in his head deemed it necessary, after a short deliberation, to somehow react.

They did so with considerable irritation.

Positively nothing angers a tanai more than interruption in research.

-“Please, do come in, Beorg...”- he said sarcastically -“...make yourself at home. Eat, drink and be merry and the girls from my harem will be here shortly to massage your feet.”

-”This is a library, Anhs. Yous don’t allow food, drink or frolicking in these places.” - came the monotone voice from somewhere behind his back.

-”Then imagine the provision of these comforts and act, as if they were, in fact, provided.” - Anh carefully put bookmarks in and closed both of the books he was reading, then levitated them onto one of the shelves. He then turned towards the guest, who was simply sitting on a chair and staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. Neither of them had said a word for some time, and Anh allowed some of his anger to evaporate. Some. Probably because he noted a fresh wound on his aberrant accomplice’s cheek and it piqued his interest.

-“What do you require of your domesticated tanai hexergist this time?” - he finally said with a sigh - “No, don’t tell us, let us guess… a pet goldfish of one of the kings is about to die, the fate of the world depends on it and you need us to inject it with a healthy dose of abysynthe so it lives another year or hundred. Or maybe… ”

-“I found a second Therese.” - interrupted Beorg in a flat and emotionless tone. Then paused for a drip, to make sure he got the hexergist’s attention - “Or at least something similar to her.”

Anh physically folded his hands on his chest.

- “We are listening. But please do not bore us with the entire background story going all the way back to the Dark Ages, keep it to the Solidation at most.”

He said that more out of habit than in hope to actually influence the outcome. The ancient nord didn’t like to talk, but when he had something he deemed important to communicate, the tirade could go on for quite a while. Still, it would have been a tad quicker if Anh didn’t have a habit of interrupting and asking questions.

-“I was in the northwestern Sorres, excavating a site...” - said Beorg, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees - “...when we got attacked by bandits. They brought someone with them. A young woman.”

-“And she stopped time for everyone?” - interrupted Anh.

-“No, something else. She stopped time for herself, apparently. We duelled. And she left me this…” - with that, the nord pointed at a jagged scar on his left cheek, then he unbuttoned his shirt and showed another long and ugly scar stretching across his left shoulder. It looked freshly stitched - “...and this. By ‘left’ I mean I am lucky to leave with just those. Even if they are the first ones in well over a hundred years.”

Anh raised his eyebrows.

-“Vihrs, make us do!” - he exclaimed - “Colour us intrigued. How did that come to pass?”

-“She was extremely fast.” - continued Beorg - “Unskilled but fast. Impossibly fast, not without some mysterious talent.”

-“Well, the state of your well-being absolutely, positively, definitely rules out the possibility of her being an aberrant." - mused the tanai scrunching up his nose - "Why are you here then?"

- ”I came here to pose an ultimatum.”

Anh didn’t like the sound of that.

-“We are instinctively defensive against being embroiled in whatever this means. We don’t want to hear about this." - he hesitated for a short moment - "But we are going to be defeated by curiosity and we want to know. So please do tell.”

-“I set things in motion to remove this woman, as she poses a risk. For the expedition as well as the wider picture. If yous want to study her alive, yous will come with me to the dig site and come up with a way to subdue her. I am unwilling to have another spat on her terms.”

Anh was very close to being shocked. Beorg was usually more… measured… or tactful… conniving maybe. To his aberrant friend at least. His body language and tone of voice were neutral as usual, but such directness made it seem he was legitimately distraught. As a working hypothesis, Anh attributed this behaviour to the wounds.

The tanai knew he was being played, that much was obvious. This was Beorg McKeone, the twenty-steps ahead of you at all times, grand manipulator, continentally acclaimed string-puller after all. But what wasn't obvious was the character of the game the nord was dragging him into.

-“Are you insane?” - he finally exhaled, then mitigated himself - “Wait, let us rephrase that, after all that time you certifiably are. Are you more insane than usual? Has your state of mind worsened lately? Yes, we are aware that if that was the case, normally hoomin would deny it and continue on their crazed adventures against common sense, but you, of all of them, ought to be aware if your connection to reality began to deteriorate.”

Beorg closed his eyes for a split drip longer than it would take to blink. Anh correctly interpreted this as 'rolling his eyes wildly'.

-“No. I feel fine. I simply cannot risk such a loose cannon around that site or… the entire world. Again. Obviously.”  - replied he - “If yous want more than a corpse to study I would strongly suggest yous start packing. A halfer ago.”

-“Of course. I’ll be there in a few moments. A candle maximum. Two… maybe. We’ll meet in the portal room.” - he got up and hurriedly floated towards the door, then stopped halfway through and hesitantly turned around - "Where did you say this dig site was? We need to know which utensils to pack, you see. The bivlight tends not to be very gracious to our delicate skin." 

-“Northwestern Sorres. A few candles travel from the port of Tevros.” - dryly responded Beorg - “Hurry please. I secured a place on a scheduled transfer…” - the hoomin reached to his pocket and produced a polished silver timepiece, then he opened it and for a few drips consulted the face of the device - ”...in two halfers, a quanter and eleven triskols. Miss the window and we will need to spend fourteen candles in Sheridawn waiting for another transfer to Usterl to become available.”

-“Right! A candle with change it is!” - the tanai shouted back from the corridor leading to his private quarters.