Post by Solana on May 6, 2014 20:53:00 GMT -5
Chapter Five- Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained
It's true, Knowledge is the real treasure. It can help people, as well as confuse them.
Puzzle door at De La Metallica, Wild Arms
Trista's eyes were huge with wonder as she gazed up, never imagining that one could see so much blue sky in one place. Presently she was riding in Bachlan's cart in a large caravan that had agreed to carry them to the Crystal Citadel on their way from Sagia. They had entered the spacious Shenioka Plains that rippled in endless waves of green and gold to the four horizons. Never had the sky seemed so close, yet so impossible to reach that she could ever remember.
Bachlan noticed her fascination with a gruff amusement. "Is this your first time this far west, Trista?"
Trista nodded, still in awe. "I wasn't allowed to travel," she answered, then laughed and freely tossed her head. "No matter. Things have changed now."
THUD!!!
Their cart suddenly gave a huge jolt as one corner dipped dangerously close to the ground. Trista shrieked as her still-sore ankle buckled and she started to fall, but Bachlan caught her in his strong arms. His face was like a thundercloud as he steadied the girl and let her go. "What happened?!" he barked.
Two guards rode up to see what the holdup was, looking a little annoyed. One swung off of her mare and left her mount to the other, then came to examine the damage to the extravagant cart. She knelt down and fussed with a wheel, muttering to herself. "Forgive me, Lord Bachlan, but one of the wheels has snapped. I think it hit one of the prairie critters' homes."
Bachlan climbed down from the cart to see for himself. He scowled, then nudged the splintered wood with one elegantly-clad foot. "How long will this inconvenience set us back? I had expected to make the Crystal Citadel in time for supper."
The guard shrugged. "It'll take a bit of time to replace, considering how fancy this hideous-high in demand cart is," she amended. Bachlan didn't look happy, but the guard stripped off her leather gauntlets and started making requests for her tools from the others nearby. She looked back up at the Guardian with a bit of amusement in her eyes at his impatience. "You're free to stretch your legs a bit, my lord. We'll blow the horn when we're ready to continue on."
Bachlan tapped his foot, ready to make another remark, until Trista jumped in. "Maybe, my lord, you could show me around here? The Plains are going to be the carpet of my new home, after all."
Bachlan blinked at her, looked at the broken cart wheel, then shook his head in resignation. "I suppose it could do no harm, especially with the repairs needed. Certainly I could protect you against any dangers." He took off the heavy silver cloak he'd been wearing to leave with the cart, but rebuckled on the harness that carried his double-ended naginata. He glanced at his newest Guardian, then hesitantly held out his arm to her. Her ankle was still injured, but had been healing well on this trek.
Trista accepted his arm gravely, feeling her heart galloping like one of the caravan's own mares. She was going to a new life as a Guardian. She had to try and be gracious and cool, taking everything in her new life in stride. That was the way Bachlan had accepted everything in their trip, so she would try and do the same.
But it was so difficult! Birds of every color flew up startled from the odd pair crossing through thick prairie grass, and Trista's eyes darted all over to try and watch them all at the same time. A rabbit sat on a sun-warmed rock, his nose barely twitching as he scanned the horizon for predators. A ruffled prairie grouse, leading a line of fluffy brown balls with shining dark eyes comically wove her way through the thick grass. She could have spread herself out on a nice rock and watched the new wonders all day.
Bachlan had the most peculiar look on his face. He didn't watch the birds or the sky, but kept his eyes on the tiny but proud girl at his side. So many contradictions there- a poor beginning, but such pride as belonged to royalty. So young in some ways, but so old in others. She was like a fierce falcon with broken wings, ones that he wanted to see healed so that she would soar.
And he was damned if he could figure out why.
They came to the top of a small rise, and Trista gasped at the sight of so many flowers scattered throughout the prairie grass like a rainbow galaxy. The combined aromas made a fragrance akin to a fresh breeze blown from paradise. She bent down to sniff a clump of her favorite violets, closing her eyes as she enjoyed their fragrance.
"I've never understood why women love flowers so much," Bachlan confessed, watching her.
Trista snickered at him. "Flowers start from tiny seeds. Given light, given water, and given good food, they grow into something magnificent." She fingered one velvet soft petal. "We all want to become flowers one day, to have someone love us and care for us in that same way."
"Is that so?" Bachlan asked, kneeling down beside her. Suddenly, he found himself picking the largest blossom and giving it to her. "You're going to be just as magnificent, Trista. Under my guidance, when the air essence is yours, you'll be a queen of the skies."
Trista looked startled, while Bachlan found himself flushing. What the hell was wrong with him? He never lost control of his actions, or did anything without careful thought and planning as to any ramifications.
As if sensing his mixed feelings, Trista didn't move to take the violet. He briskly handed it over to her. "That's a reminder of your task, Trista. I expect you'll work very hard for us," he muttered by way of explanation.
Trista inhaled the sweet aroma gratefully, tears in her eyes. "I will. I promise you, I will always be there to help you."
Three sharp horn blasts suddenly sounded. Bachlan was quite grateful for the interruption, but made certain not to mention that fact. "Come, we must return," he urged her, getting back to his feet and laboriously dusting off his knees.
Trista caressed one of the soft petals of her violet, then brought it gently to her cheek before rising. She would treasure this little flower and what it stood for forever and ever.
Two cloaked figures stood under one of the massive trees in the Ayadoia Glade at midnight, well out of the telltale glows of lavender Girith and amber Chizu. Their guest did not need a long cloak, as he was seemingly wrapped in the very shadows themselves. He was relaying the results of his successful trip, with not a little pride in his tone after completing what had been one of his most frustrating missions.
"The water lady wished me to tell you that 'Genu Magnia' translates to 'Great Birth'. She and the fire lady are well and pass on their love, and will do what they can to learn more," Haji recited perfectly from memory. He reached into a pocket on a sleeve with a gloved hand and pulled out a short length of red thread tied into a knot, the symbol of a blood debt, along with the miniature portraits that he had been loaned for the mission.
Oriana accepted them solemnly, untying the knot before handing the piece of thread back as a symbol of a blood debt paid off. The portraits went into a pocket. She bowed her head to Haji in sheer gratitude. "The debt is fulfilled. Thank you for all of your help."
The ninja shrugged. He was unused to thanks in his particular line of work, but was still grateful to this woman for saving the lives of his sister and clan. "Though our alliance is officially concluded, I still wish you and your people luck. Farewell." He bowed first to Oriana, then to Eziban, before vanishing from the face of Merna for the last time.
Eziban tapped his chin thoughtfully as he replayed Haji's message in his head. "'Great Birth', eh? Does that ring any bells for you?"
Oriana shook her head regretfully. "That's why it's time for us to get to work. Can you find that underground room again?"
Eziban grinned menacingly and cracked his knuckles. "Easily." Oriana gently slapped his hand as a healer's reminder not to do that before teleporting them both back inside the Citadel.
As expected, the interior was still as dark and silent as they had left it. Not wanting to take any chances, Oriana reached out with her power to gently brush the lifeforce of each Guardian in residence, relieved to find each still asleep in their chambers. She nodded to Eziban, who retraced his steps the night he had first stumbled onto the odd room.
The crystal wall was vaporized and rebuilt behind them, a pinch of fire was used for a light, and he was in again as slick as butter.
The room looked worse this time, probably due to having Oriana down here. Her face had gone pale as she looked at the odd tools and felt the magic humming in the air, but she pursed her lips and followed Eziban to the stack of books on a worktable.
Eziban squinted as the fire over his head sparkled on a huge mass of crystal tucked near the back wall. It almost looked like a case for holding something large, and he would swear up and down that it hadn't been there last time.
"Which book, dear?" Oriana asked, breaking that train of thought.
Eziban shifted his attention back to the stacks, going through the large pile in front of him until he found the cover of the book he had flipped open last time. Now that he knew what to look for, he could sense the memory power inside just waiting to get into his head again and shuddered. "How do you want to do this?"
"I will open it and read off what I can. I've been using my essence to create layered shields and barriers in my mind for millennia, things that even Bachlan would have trouble breaking through. Give me a moment," Oriana answered, touching a few fingers to her temple. Her power awakened the supplemental barriers that were kept dormant until needed, and they shifted to aid her normal shields. Once she was ready, she opened the book.
As expected, gray mist traveled out of the book again. Eziban stepped back involuntarily as he yanked out paper and pen to take notes, but Oriana was the sole target. The mist circled around her in frustration, seeking some entrance into her memory, but her shields remained strong and she wasn't worried.
Quickly but clearly, Oriana began reading off what she could make out while Eziban speedily jotted it down, taking care that every word was still legible. It all sounded like gibberish to him, but whatever floated the Atlanteans' boat. Solana had always said that the Atlantean language had taken nuances and sounds from the voices of the sea and its denizens. Eziban thought that the idea was quite poetic and all, but it didn't make translating it into something he could read any easier.
More and more pages were being flipped through, but the memory block spell didn't appear to be growing at all. The gray mist had formed a small ring around Oriana, but unlike normal mist it was absolutely still, as if biding its time. If Eziban didn't know better, he would swear that it was sulking. Healers knew better than any how important a strong and solid defense was, so the power was just left hanging while they worked. His hand started to cramp as he began scribbling on yet another new page, but every second was precious and he dared not stop now.
Oriana’s reading became more confident as she continued, the not-quite-remembered phrases coming more smoothly to her tongue, but meaning still eluded her. She tried to push that frustration of her mind to concentrate on her reading. They knew where their Atlantean was, and would soon have these clues in her hands.
Eziban suddenly stumbled on a word that was a cacophonic five syllables and squinted at the illegible mess he had just written. "Wait, wait, wait, what was that last part again? The ‘esel'-whatever word?"
Oriana stifled a trace of irritation at the interruption and moved her finger back on the page to find the word mentioned, then glanced up sharply. She slammed the book closed and took down her shields. "We must leave now. Bachlan is starting to wake up."
Eziban didn't need to be told twice. He handed the papers he’d written to Oriana, who stashed them in one of the wide sleeves of her gown, while he gingerly returned the book to its precise location in the stack and made certain that nothing looked like it had been touched. With that done, the pair raced through the room and up the stairs, Eziban remembering just in time to dissolve the crystal wall so that they didn't run smack into it.
“To our chambers,” Oriana whispered as Eziban swiftly replaced the wall. He nodded as they sprinted down the hallways and back up the stairs to the common room and separated to their respective chambers. His heart was pounding fiercely as he dove back into bed like a naughty child avoiding bedtime about to be discovered by a waking parent. Like that child, he had a self-satisfied grin on his face at not being caught.
Mission accomplished.
Bachlan snarled as he came awake, thrashing his way out of his blankets and dissipating the last few clouds of gray that swam around his mind. One hand impulsively reached out for Trista's comforting strength, but she wasn't there for him this time. He would have to deal with the aftermath of this one alone.
Bachlan got to his feet slowly, feeling another headache coming upon the dying of his nightmares. He shook it off grimly as he reached for the basin on his night-table to splash some cool water on his forehead to wash off the fear-sweat. With the images banished, the thoughts that always followed were free to float again to the surface.
Why had these visions that had haunted him for so many millennia now coming to him in his dreams?
Was it the weakness of doubt trying to eat its way into his resolve like acid, now that he was so very close to achieving a brand new destiny for Merna?
Was he trying to recall the strength that had enabled him to overthrow the fiercest oppressors that Merna had ever seen?
Or perhaps... it was a test from Merna itself?
A slow smile of realization crept over his lips as he dried his face and slid on his favorite bronze robes, deciding to doublecheck his latest notes in his workroom. The thought of Merna merely testing him was a new one, but at the same time oh-so-obvious. Of course it was a test, to prove himself worthy of the destiny he had planned. This was just one more barrier to overcome, as he had done to so many others on his path as a Guardian.
Bachlan checked over all the chambers that served the Guardians in residence, noting that each was quiet. A beautiful bit of moonlight coming in through a window bathed the sleeping Trista in an ethereal glow, and he found himself stopping for a moment - just a moment- in her doorway.
The small figure that contained so much fire was contentedly curled up in her bed, having earned the peace that she had never been allowed to have in her younger years. Her looks could be deceptive, for beneath there was the pride of an empress and the strength of a lioness that he found so tantalizing. No other woman he had ever encountered, no matter how appealing, had ever come close to touching something inside him the way that this one had.
A small frown suddenly marred Trista's angelic features, and a soft whimper of fear escaped her. She began to writhe, having been dropped into one of her own recurring nightmares from her past. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and her lips parted as if ready to give a scream.
In a breath, Bachlan was by her side and laid a rough hand on her forehead. Calling on his own power, he easily pushed aside the nightmare that currently claimed her. After thinking a moment, he decided to replace it with one of his own most cherished memories.
The two of them and Solana and Oriana had been called to the frigid northern ice colonies to fight avalanches that had been threatening to bury the cave communities. The work itself had been child's play for his Guardians. Afterward, Solana and Oriana had stayed behind in the settlement, while he and Trista had taken another trip by dogsled to 'make sure that there were no loose ends to tie up.'
Instead, Bachlan had brought Trista to an isolated hill to see first-hand the ephemeral colors of the aurora dancing in the heavens. He could have reached up and drawn one of the ribbons of color from the sky to crown her with. Trista had been lost in awe as they sat for hours, cozily wrapped together in thick woolens and down-filled coats and sharing a jug of spiced cider. They had been alone in a diamond-clad and silent Merna that was all theirs.
Slowly, Trista's body relaxed and a nostalgic smile crossed her lips. Bachlan carefully smoothed down those silky silver hairs with a trembling hand. He suddenly wanted to see himself reflected in those adoring amethyst eyes and feel her heart beating against his-
No.
Bachlan came back to himself and realized that he had almost forgotten what he had gotten up for in the first place. Distractions weren't good at this point. He had to remain focused on what was truly important, and only later could he attend to other and more enjoyable matters. Trista seemed to stir, and Bachlan held his breath, but the girl only let out a soft sigh of contentment as she rolled to her other side and fell deeply asleep once more.
Bachlan managed to steel his will to leave and continue on to his hidden workroom, walking quickly so that he would not be tempted to turn right back around. He took down the barrier and illusions that guarded the way to his workroom, cast a small ball of light over his head, and made his way down the stairs with a sigh of relief.
It was so good to be back on track. He would feel better soon, immersed among his successful research. The best way to counter those silly fears was to present evidence to the contrary, and THIS evidence-
Suddenly, Bachlan stopped deadstill as he noticed a bit of gray mist still floating in the air around his workbooks. He felt a chill as if glacial meltwater had replaced the blood in his veins. The mist was not around the whole stack, but hovering over THE workbook in particular. It was a spell that had been activated, but had been unable to do its job.
Only one person in the Citadel would be able to withstand this particular spell, but how had she gotten through Joshua's barrier without triggering it somehow?!
He began anxiously flipping through the workbook. Bachlan was no fool when it came to knowing what his Guardians could do, and remembered having to reset the spell on this book not long ago. He had pegged it down to a petty rebelliousness on Eziban's part, or perhaps even a childish prank. However, if the boy was working with Oriana, then that made the situation a bit more serious. Bachlan would have to keep a sharp eye on her, to determine what she had seen or what she could know.
He paused at that thought. Oriana had lost her skills in the Atlantean language after all of this time. Solana had rarely spoken it in front of them, and Oriana had respected her feelings. Her softheartedness had cost her again. But if someone had looked at this specific book twice, then there would have to be a reason. To send off what they found to the one person they knew could translate it...
A devilish grin grew on Bachlan's face as he returned to his chambers for a restful night's sleep for the first time in a long, long while. This was marvelous. Somehow, Oriana had tracked down his little runaways for him, and was even kind enough to send the invitations. No matter how much Oriana had found, it would be enough to bring them back into his grasp.
Then, he could give back to Merna the glory and purity it deserved.
After breakfast, Oriana returned to her chambers to pick up a little needlework to pass the time and help her think. Eziban had been a bit jumpy and she had been a bit quiet at the morning meal, but Bachlan hadn't appeared to notice. Actually, the Memory Guardian had seemed oddly jovial for once, even engaging Raoul in some conversation about storms in the forests of Deynain.
Even more surprising, he had sent off Eziban and Raoul to the city of Ninaz to pick up some supplies and had given the rest of them a day off from their duties.
With no recent calls for healing, Oriana decided to try to figure out what to do with their newfound knowledge. The Life Guardian returned to her chambers, leaving the door open in case she was needed, and got herself settled into her favorite chair. Nearby was her sewing basket with her current embroidery project resting on top. She carefully threaded a needle and began stitching a spray of goldenrod in a meadow scene, the busy work leaving her mind free to ponder.
She knew that Solana and Aryn would be working to find out about this 'Great Birth' and what interest Bachlan would have in it, but the papers in her hand perhaps held more of the clues that would narrow down their search. Haji's debt was clear, so that method of contact was severed unless a new blood debt contract was drawn up.
Though uncommon, transportation to other worlds was not unheard of. Certainly there were plenty of ports with captains that would be willing to take an anonymous traveler without asking any questions for the right price. She found herself wishing that she had insisted on accompanying the boys on their trip, but of course it was too late for that.
Oriana expertly knotted off her starting thread, then snipped it. After rethreading her needle, the Life Guardian sighed as an uncharacteristic wave of frustration passed through her. She glanced from her embroidery frame to the sheets covered with unfamiliar and forgotten words that could hold so many keys as if willing them to surrender their meaning to her. If only they had their Atlantean here, back at home with them and her oceans and her books-
The Life Guardian gave a start that knocked the wad of fabric that she had been working on to the floor.
Books!
Why had she not thought of books?
When Solana had been sent here from Atlantis as her new student and later joined their ranks as a Guardian, she had brought her entire library with her to add to their own. Naturally, a large number of the books were in her native tongue. An avid reader herself, Oriana had enjoyed long chats with her new young friend about various texts that they had both read and the ideas contained within. Some had been for enjoyment alone, while others held more philosophical ideas that they had unraveled together. There had been one in particular...
"So, you don't agree with Titiu's ideals in ruling?" Oriana asked in amusement, her copy of the man's philosophy in hand.
Solana shook her head vehemently, her silver eyes flashing her dislike. "Anyone of any position should be allowed to create their own destiny!" she objected, glaring down at her book in disgust. "I cannot fathom why Kiel insisted that I buy this! The Elders of Atlantis come... came from all walks of life."
"Darling, it can be useful to study that which we don't agree with, if only to remind us of why we stand for the values we do. Or perhaps as a way of finding common ground with views that we may not necessarily embrace," Oriana suggested.
"Maybe. If Kiel also thought it was that important, then maybe I'll hold onto it and try again when I'm older," Solana decided, fingering the green and gold cover with a newfound respect.
Green and gold, green and gold... Oriana found her own copy of Titiu's Discourse on the Fate and Rights of Man and practically flew to their library. Surely, if the book had been a suggestion from her beloved teacher, Solana wouldn't have tossed it.
Their library had been inherited from the Golden Ones who had once occupied their citadel, though of course it had been dramatically expanded throughout the millennia. The ceiling was easily four stories from the ground floor, and every inch of every wall and much of the ground floor was packed with shelves containing a world's ransom of tomes and scrolls and thick volumes of every subject that could be dreamed of. The more valuable or ancient books were wrapped in protective spells against wear and tear and also fire. Light was provided only by electric lights, glowing crystals, or the immense skylight set into the ceiling spelled to hold sunlight until needed. Work tables and thick, oversized chairs were scattered throughout the space, while a small refreshment area held the necessities for making drinks and a bowl of fruit and pastries so that the reader didn't have to make a long trip to the kitchen. Thankfully, Oriana seemed to have the enormous chamber all to herself.
All of Solana's books from Atlantis were tucked towards the back and kept magically protected all of this time. There were gaps on the shelves which had formerly housed books that had accompanied Solana on her travels, but most of these dealt with other worlds or were treasured keepsakes. A dusty old philosophy book that she didn't even agree with would have been dead weight on her journey.
Or so Oriana hoped.
She skimmed through the shelves quickly, hunting desperately for that one green and gold volume. A rainbow of covers flashed by in a blur- blue oceanography texts, lilac and tan tomes of healing, tales and legends of other worlds done in many colors. Shelf after shelf after shelf passed her eyes as her search grew more frantic.
Finally, tucked between an Atlantean volume on freshwater fish and history was the treasure she sought. Oriana pulled it out carefully, delighted to see that it was still in one piece, and matched it to her own copy with a huge sigh of relief.
But she couldn't relax just quite yet. Oriana tucked both books into one of her voluminous sleeves, then carefully rewrapped her yellow shawl around herself to disguise any bulges. She made sure to dust off her dress and hands carefully. Finally, the Life Guardian made herself commit to a normal walking pace back to her chambers, though her heart was pounding and eager to decipher any secrets scribbled by Eziban the night before.
Only Bachlan was in the common area, engrossed in some reports. He glanced up at her momentarily before his gaze was again commanded by the scattered sheets in front of him. Oriana dipped her head in acknowledgment and continued onto her chambers at the same leisurely pace, then casually shut the door with the same sense of triumph experienced when defeating a stubborn illness.
But Bachlan had noticed her flushed face, and the forced slowness of her walk. Chuckling, he picked up a letter from the duchy of Mila to read through and decided to give her a little more time and false hope before he sprang his trap.
With that supply list, the boys weren't going to be back home anytime soon.
Sagia had changed a lot in almost twenty thousand years, Solana decided as she surveyed the city that was still Merna's scholarly capital. She had made her first home in Merna here, when Kiel had sent her away from Atlantis to escape its Fall. This was where Oriana had begun teaching her the secrets of healing, and where she had made the decision to become a Guardian that would alter her life's path forever. Come to think of it, she herself had changed far more than even a city.
Solana made herself let go of her past as she smoothed down her disguise. Clad in a simple rose peasant dress and veil, her hair and eyes illusion-tinted a maple brown, she knew that her attempt to stay inconspicuous would be wasted if people started wondering why she was staring off into space. Looking around cautiously, she found a crowd of students heading to the enormous library that crowned the city's hill and followed them as if she belonged.
Tucking the veil a little more snugly over her hair, Solana reentered the library's doors for the first time since her journey with Aryn had begun. She heard greetings, complaints of professors, desperate searches for papers and loud demands for certain books and scrolls, and felt a knot of tension in her chest dissolve at the familiar atmosphere. Some things stayed the same in all libraries, no matter the world.
This one was a lot different and a lot bigger compared to the last time she had been here, though. Nothing was where it had been, so she decided to try the help desk.
The few librarians present looked harassed, filling out slips of paper to hand to kids and finding books stored behind their table. One scowled at Solana's approach. "Let me guess- you're from that history class, too? What topic did you get assigned?"
Solana felt a huge relief at having been provided with a cover, and thought fast. "The ancient history, before the Guardians were established."
She groaned. "The OLDEN days," she remarked in sympathy. "Most of the books don't go back that far, but we have one guy who actually LIKES keeping track of that dusty old stuff." She grabbed a slip of paper and scribbled a name and office number on it before shoving it to Solana. "Gentleman name of Jarkeb. Office is on the fourth door to the right in that hallway in the back. If you're lucky, he'll stop blabbing before your paper's due."
Solana accepted the paper gratefully. "Thank you for your help, ma'am. It's very important."
"I'm sure your professor's told you that many times. If all these coots have to assign papers at the same time, the least they could do is help us out a bit..." the librarian muttered. She waved her on and turned to a student behind Solana searching for texts on the construction of bridges.
Dodging the flood of students pawing at the countless shelves around her, Solana followed the directions to the right door and knocked. A pleasant voice invited her inside. Sitting behind a desk heaped with dusty texts and old manuscripts was a gentle-looking apple-cheeked elderly man. He smiled up at Solana with twinkling eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses and pointed to the overstuffed chair in front of his desk. "Good day, miss, and please take a seat. I am Jarkeb. What can I help you find out today?"
Solana shook his hand before sinking into the comfy chair he'd indicated. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm here seeking information on the history of our world before the Guardianship was established."
His eyes lit up. "Ah! Yes, I do have some texts relating to that time period, Miss... erm, what was your name?" the man asked, turning in his chair to start looking over the shelf directly behind his desk.
Solana felt a momentary panic before answering with the first name that popped into her head. "Trellia. My name is Trellia." She had always loved Kiel's stories of Ecco's angel-like descendent bringing their hero to a future ocean that was sentient, and the highly evolved dolphins that lived in harmony with it. Maybe being in a library and masquerading as a student had caused that story to surface in her mind.
Jarkeb turned back around, setting a pile of books on his desk. Apparently, he was completely unaware of Solana's flub. "Miss Trellia. Is there anything in particular that you're interested in?" he asked.
"Yes, I heard the phrase 'Great Birth' from an old friend, and am curious as to what it pertains to," Solana replied blandly.
Jarkeb's eyes widened. "Your friend is well-read. That's a theory that's almost died out over time." Picking up a specific book written in an ornate elven script, he began leafing through it. Solana reached into her pack and pulled out her magical book to transcribe anything useful, choosing not to answer the comment.
"Let's see... Mila breaking away from the Monsee Empire... no, further back than that. The Rise of the Classes... no, more than that....here, in the very beginning. 'Scholars have suggested that our world used to be a very different place, countless millennia ago. All of our land was underwater, volcanic activity was chaotic, lightning flashed in heavy black clouds, and hurricane-level winds swept continuously across the endless waters.'" Jarkeb took a moment to push his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, then smiled at Solana. "It makes one appreciate our Guardians today, does it not?"
Solana didn't meet his eyes. "I am very grateful to the Lady Oriana, personally."
Jarkeb nodded approvingly and turned back to his book. "'With the elements running rampant, the only species able to thrive was that of the enigmatic sea serpents, which were reputed to be able to draw nutrients directly from the raging waters and anomaly in the skies. Their own origin, whether they themselves evolved from the primordial soup of the oceans or are immigrants like ourselves remains a mystery.'"
Solana rested her chin in one hand in thought, her mind as always intrigued by an unknown concerning her seas. The serpents seemed to prefer dealings with other aquatic creatures compared to people, and were very rarely sighted by sailors in Merna's waters. Even she had seldom glimpsed them during her tenure as the Water Guardian. Some considered them a myth, while others like those in Monsee gave them honor.
But that line of thought was for another day. Jarkeb apologized for going off-topic and found his place in the book to continue. "'However, this all changed during an event that would be known as the 'Great Birth'. Light and warmth came, receding the high waters to reveal land. Puffy white clouds replaced the sulfur, and gentle breezes replaced the former harsh winds. Volcanic activity stabilized, adding new islands and remaking some of the land. Once suitable, life came to this treasure of a new world. It was then given the name of 'Merna', from the words 'mer' and 'nacer' translating to 'ocean-birth'.'"
"But how? What caused this change, and why?" Solana pressed, sensing something important was coming up.
"Now that's the funny thing, my dear. Legend has it that Merna itself did this," Jarkeb answered slowly. "Perhaps out of a sense of altruism to support more lifeforms than merely the serpents. Or perhaps the more accurate statement would be 'other lifeforms'."
Solana mulled this over. Certainly the idea of a living world was nothing new to her, from her studies and the stories she had heard from her friends and their bonds to the various forms of life. Still, she had never considered it in terms of Merna herself. Maybe Oriana would be able to shed some light on that possibility, the next time she was able to see her.
A sudden, painful wave of homesickness for the Life Guardian and the other friends she'd left behind rose up in her chest, and tears began burning in her eyes. Angrily, she shoved that wave back down and rubbed her eyes. No. Not now. You have plenty of work to do before even thinking of being ready to go back.
"Trellia, are you quite all right? Perhaps a short rest and a breath of fresh air would help you?" Jarkeb asked worriedly.
Solana made herself swallow the lump in her throat and looked down until she had her expression under control. "I'm fine, truly. Um, how did Merna go about creating the Great Birth?"
Jarkeb wordlessly handed over a handkerchief before going back to his book. Solana gratefully wiped her eyes and returned it as he found the next passage. "Thank you. Continuing with the theory of Merna being at the very least semi-sentient, it was able to channel its own inate power to gravitate the change and later produce the Guardian essences to help protect it. Bachlan was chosen as the Guardian of Memory, and... well, we all know how the rest of that story goes."
"Indeed we do. Jarkeb, thank you for your time," Solana said gratefully, getting to her feet and shaking his hand once more.
"I hope it has answered some of your questions, my dear. Feel free to return anytime," Jarkeb replied, nose already back in his book.
Solana shut the door behind her, sagging a bit. As seemed to be the case in her line of work, questions had been replaced with more questions. Why was Bachlan so interested in this 'Great Birth', anyway? As the Guardian of Memory, he had always been interested in history, but what merited keeping this hidden?
It was only one more piece in a constantly evolving puzzle. Try as she might, Solana couldn't see the big picture yet. Her face set in an expression of determination, she returned to the busy librarians at the help desk and asked for the history and philosophy sections.
It's true, Knowledge is the real treasure. It can help people, as well as confuse them.
Puzzle door at De La Metallica, Wild Arms
Trista's eyes were huge with wonder as she gazed up, never imagining that one could see so much blue sky in one place. Presently she was riding in Bachlan's cart in a large caravan that had agreed to carry them to the Crystal Citadel on their way from Sagia. They had entered the spacious Shenioka Plains that rippled in endless waves of green and gold to the four horizons. Never had the sky seemed so close, yet so impossible to reach that she could ever remember.
Bachlan noticed her fascination with a gruff amusement. "Is this your first time this far west, Trista?"
Trista nodded, still in awe. "I wasn't allowed to travel," she answered, then laughed and freely tossed her head. "No matter. Things have changed now."
THUD!!!
Their cart suddenly gave a huge jolt as one corner dipped dangerously close to the ground. Trista shrieked as her still-sore ankle buckled and she started to fall, but Bachlan caught her in his strong arms. His face was like a thundercloud as he steadied the girl and let her go. "What happened?!" he barked.
Two guards rode up to see what the holdup was, looking a little annoyed. One swung off of her mare and left her mount to the other, then came to examine the damage to the extravagant cart. She knelt down and fussed with a wheel, muttering to herself. "Forgive me, Lord Bachlan, but one of the wheels has snapped. I think it hit one of the prairie critters' homes."
Bachlan climbed down from the cart to see for himself. He scowled, then nudged the splintered wood with one elegantly-clad foot. "How long will this inconvenience set us back? I had expected to make the Crystal Citadel in time for supper."
The guard shrugged. "It'll take a bit of time to replace, considering how fancy this hideous-high in demand cart is," she amended. Bachlan didn't look happy, but the guard stripped off her leather gauntlets and started making requests for her tools from the others nearby. She looked back up at the Guardian with a bit of amusement in her eyes at his impatience. "You're free to stretch your legs a bit, my lord. We'll blow the horn when we're ready to continue on."
Bachlan tapped his foot, ready to make another remark, until Trista jumped in. "Maybe, my lord, you could show me around here? The Plains are going to be the carpet of my new home, after all."
Bachlan blinked at her, looked at the broken cart wheel, then shook his head in resignation. "I suppose it could do no harm, especially with the repairs needed. Certainly I could protect you against any dangers." He took off the heavy silver cloak he'd been wearing to leave with the cart, but rebuckled on the harness that carried his double-ended naginata. He glanced at his newest Guardian, then hesitantly held out his arm to her. Her ankle was still injured, but had been healing well on this trek.
Trista accepted his arm gravely, feeling her heart galloping like one of the caravan's own mares. She was going to a new life as a Guardian. She had to try and be gracious and cool, taking everything in her new life in stride. That was the way Bachlan had accepted everything in their trip, so she would try and do the same.
But it was so difficult! Birds of every color flew up startled from the odd pair crossing through thick prairie grass, and Trista's eyes darted all over to try and watch them all at the same time. A rabbit sat on a sun-warmed rock, his nose barely twitching as he scanned the horizon for predators. A ruffled prairie grouse, leading a line of fluffy brown balls with shining dark eyes comically wove her way through the thick grass. She could have spread herself out on a nice rock and watched the new wonders all day.
Bachlan had the most peculiar look on his face. He didn't watch the birds or the sky, but kept his eyes on the tiny but proud girl at his side. So many contradictions there- a poor beginning, but such pride as belonged to royalty. So young in some ways, but so old in others. She was like a fierce falcon with broken wings, ones that he wanted to see healed so that she would soar.
And he was damned if he could figure out why.
They came to the top of a small rise, and Trista gasped at the sight of so many flowers scattered throughout the prairie grass like a rainbow galaxy. The combined aromas made a fragrance akin to a fresh breeze blown from paradise. She bent down to sniff a clump of her favorite violets, closing her eyes as she enjoyed their fragrance.
"I've never understood why women love flowers so much," Bachlan confessed, watching her.
Trista snickered at him. "Flowers start from tiny seeds. Given light, given water, and given good food, they grow into something magnificent." She fingered one velvet soft petal. "We all want to become flowers one day, to have someone love us and care for us in that same way."
"Is that so?" Bachlan asked, kneeling down beside her. Suddenly, he found himself picking the largest blossom and giving it to her. "You're going to be just as magnificent, Trista. Under my guidance, when the air essence is yours, you'll be a queen of the skies."
Trista looked startled, while Bachlan found himself flushing. What the hell was wrong with him? He never lost control of his actions, or did anything without careful thought and planning as to any ramifications.
As if sensing his mixed feelings, Trista didn't move to take the violet. He briskly handed it over to her. "That's a reminder of your task, Trista. I expect you'll work very hard for us," he muttered by way of explanation.
Trista inhaled the sweet aroma gratefully, tears in her eyes. "I will. I promise you, I will always be there to help you."
Three sharp horn blasts suddenly sounded. Bachlan was quite grateful for the interruption, but made certain not to mention that fact. "Come, we must return," he urged her, getting back to his feet and laboriously dusting off his knees.
Trista caressed one of the soft petals of her violet, then brought it gently to her cheek before rising. She would treasure this little flower and what it stood for forever and ever.
Two cloaked figures stood under one of the massive trees in the Ayadoia Glade at midnight, well out of the telltale glows of lavender Girith and amber Chizu. Their guest did not need a long cloak, as he was seemingly wrapped in the very shadows themselves. He was relaying the results of his successful trip, with not a little pride in his tone after completing what had been one of his most frustrating missions.
"The water lady wished me to tell you that 'Genu Magnia' translates to 'Great Birth'. She and the fire lady are well and pass on their love, and will do what they can to learn more," Haji recited perfectly from memory. He reached into a pocket on a sleeve with a gloved hand and pulled out a short length of red thread tied into a knot, the symbol of a blood debt, along with the miniature portraits that he had been loaned for the mission.
Oriana accepted them solemnly, untying the knot before handing the piece of thread back as a symbol of a blood debt paid off. The portraits went into a pocket. She bowed her head to Haji in sheer gratitude. "The debt is fulfilled. Thank you for all of your help."
The ninja shrugged. He was unused to thanks in his particular line of work, but was still grateful to this woman for saving the lives of his sister and clan. "Though our alliance is officially concluded, I still wish you and your people luck. Farewell." He bowed first to Oriana, then to Eziban, before vanishing from the face of Merna for the last time.
Eziban tapped his chin thoughtfully as he replayed Haji's message in his head. "'Great Birth', eh? Does that ring any bells for you?"
Oriana shook her head regretfully. "That's why it's time for us to get to work. Can you find that underground room again?"
Eziban grinned menacingly and cracked his knuckles. "Easily." Oriana gently slapped his hand as a healer's reminder not to do that before teleporting them both back inside the Citadel.
As expected, the interior was still as dark and silent as they had left it. Not wanting to take any chances, Oriana reached out with her power to gently brush the lifeforce of each Guardian in residence, relieved to find each still asleep in their chambers. She nodded to Eziban, who retraced his steps the night he had first stumbled onto the odd room.
The crystal wall was vaporized and rebuilt behind them, a pinch of fire was used for a light, and he was in again as slick as butter.
The room looked worse this time, probably due to having Oriana down here. Her face had gone pale as she looked at the odd tools and felt the magic humming in the air, but she pursed her lips and followed Eziban to the stack of books on a worktable.
Eziban squinted as the fire over his head sparkled on a huge mass of crystal tucked near the back wall. It almost looked like a case for holding something large, and he would swear up and down that it hadn't been there last time.
"Which book, dear?" Oriana asked, breaking that train of thought.
Eziban shifted his attention back to the stacks, going through the large pile in front of him until he found the cover of the book he had flipped open last time. Now that he knew what to look for, he could sense the memory power inside just waiting to get into his head again and shuddered. "How do you want to do this?"
"I will open it and read off what I can. I've been using my essence to create layered shields and barriers in my mind for millennia, things that even Bachlan would have trouble breaking through. Give me a moment," Oriana answered, touching a few fingers to her temple. Her power awakened the supplemental barriers that were kept dormant until needed, and they shifted to aid her normal shields. Once she was ready, she opened the book.
As expected, gray mist traveled out of the book again. Eziban stepped back involuntarily as he yanked out paper and pen to take notes, but Oriana was the sole target. The mist circled around her in frustration, seeking some entrance into her memory, but her shields remained strong and she wasn't worried.
Quickly but clearly, Oriana began reading off what she could make out while Eziban speedily jotted it down, taking care that every word was still legible. It all sounded like gibberish to him, but whatever floated the Atlanteans' boat. Solana had always said that the Atlantean language had taken nuances and sounds from the voices of the sea and its denizens. Eziban thought that the idea was quite poetic and all, but it didn't make translating it into something he could read any easier.
More and more pages were being flipped through, but the memory block spell didn't appear to be growing at all. The gray mist had formed a small ring around Oriana, but unlike normal mist it was absolutely still, as if biding its time. If Eziban didn't know better, he would swear that it was sulking. Healers knew better than any how important a strong and solid defense was, so the power was just left hanging while they worked. His hand started to cramp as he began scribbling on yet another new page, but every second was precious and he dared not stop now.
Oriana’s reading became more confident as she continued, the not-quite-remembered phrases coming more smoothly to her tongue, but meaning still eluded her. She tried to push that frustration of her mind to concentrate on her reading. They knew where their Atlantean was, and would soon have these clues in her hands.
Eziban suddenly stumbled on a word that was a cacophonic five syllables and squinted at the illegible mess he had just written. "Wait, wait, wait, what was that last part again? The ‘esel'-whatever word?"
Oriana stifled a trace of irritation at the interruption and moved her finger back on the page to find the word mentioned, then glanced up sharply. She slammed the book closed and took down her shields. "We must leave now. Bachlan is starting to wake up."
Eziban didn't need to be told twice. He handed the papers he’d written to Oriana, who stashed them in one of the wide sleeves of her gown, while he gingerly returned the book to its precise location in the stack and made certain that nothing looked like it had been touched. With that done, the pair raced through the room and up the stairs, Eziban remembering just in time to dissolve the crystal wall so that they didn't run smack into it.
“To our chambers,” Oriana whispered as Eziban swiftly replaced the wall. He nodded as they sprinted down the hallways and back up the stairs to the common room and separated to their respective chambers. His heart was pounding fiercely as he dove back into bed like a naughty child avoiding bedtime about to be discovered by a waking parent. Like that child, he had a self-satisfied grin on his face at not being caught.
Mission accomplished.
Bachlan snarled as he came awake, thrashing his way out of his blankets and dissipating the last few clouds of gray that swam around his mind. One hand impulsively reached out for Trista's comforting strength, but she wasn't there for him this time. He would have to deal with the aftermath of this one alone.
Bachlan got to his feet slowly, feeling another headache coming upon the dying of his nightmares. He shook it off grimly as he reached for the basin on his night-table to splash some cool water on his forehead to wash off the fear-sweat. With the images banished, the thoughts that always followed were free to float again to the surface.
Why had these visions that had haunted him for so many millennia now coming to him in his dreams?
Was it the weakness of doubt trying to eat its way into his resolve like acid, now that he was so very close to achieving a brand new destiny for Merna?
Was he trying to recall the strength that had enabled him to overthrow the fiercest oppressors that Merna had ever seen?
Or perhaps... it was a test from Merna itself?
A slow smile of realization crept over his lips as he dried his face and slid on his favorite bronze robes, deciding to doublecheck his latest notes in his workroom. The thought of Merna merely testing him was a new one, but at the same time oh-so-obvious. Of course it was a test, to prove himself worthy of the destiny he had planned. This was just one more barrier to overcome, as he had done to so many others on his path as a Guardian.
Bachlan checked over all the chambers that served the Guardians in residence, noting that each was quiet. A beautiful bit of moonlight coming in through a window bathed the sleeping Trista in an ethereal glow, and he found himself stopping for a moment - just a moment- in her doorway.
The small figure that contained so much fire was contentedly curled up in her bed, having earned the peace that she had never been allowed to have in her younger years. Her looks could be deceptive, for beneath there was the pride of an empress and the strength of a lioness that he found so tantalizing. No other woman he had ever encountered, no matter how appealing, had ever come close to touching something inside him the way that this one had.
A small frown suddenly marred Trista's angelic features, and a soft whimper of fear escaped her. She began to writhe, having been dropped into one of her own recurring nightmares from her past. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and her lips parted as if ready to give a scream.
In a breath, Bachlan was by her side and laid a rough hand on her forehead. Calling on his own power, he easily pushed aside the nightmare that currently claimed her. After thinking a moment, he decided to replace it with one of his own most cherished memories.
The two of them and Solana and Oriana had been called to the frigid northern ice colonies to fight avalanches that had been threatening to bury the cave communities. The work itself had been child's play for his Guardians. Afterward, Solana and Oriana had stayed behind in the settlement, while he and Trista had taken another trip by dogsled to 'make sure that there were no loose ends to tie up.'
Instead, Bachlan had brought Trista to an isolated hill to see first-hand the ephemeral colors of the aurora dancing in the heavens. He could have reached up and drawn one of the ribbons of color from the sky to crown her with. Trista had been lost in awe as they sat for hours, cozily wrapped together in thick woolens and down-filled coats and sharing a jug of spiced cider. They had been alone in a diamond-clad and silent Merna that was all theirs.
Slowly, Trista's body relaxed and a nostalgic smile crossed her lips. Bachlan carefully smoothed down those silky silver hairs with a trembling hand. He suddenly wanted to see himself reflected in those adoring amethyst eyes and feel her heart beating against his-
No.
Bachlan came back to himself and realized that he had almost forgotten what he had gotten up for in the first place. Distractions weren't good at this point. He had to remain focused on what was truly important, and only later could he attend to other and more enjoyable matters. Trista seemed to stir, and Bachlan held his breath, but the girl only let out a soft sigh of contentment as she rolled to her other side and fell deeply asleep once more.
Bachlan managed to steel his will to leave and continue on to his hidden workroom, walking quickly so that he would not be tempted to turn right back around. He took down the barrier and illusions that guarded the way to his workroom, cast a small ball of light over his head, and made his way down the stairs with a sigh of relief.
It was so good to be back on track. He would feel better soon, immersed among his successful research. The best way to counter those silly fears was to present evidence to the contrary, and THIS evidence-
Suddenly, Bachlan stopped deadstill as he noticed a bit of gray mist still floating in the air around his workbooks. He felt a chill as if glacial meltwater had replaced the blood in his veins. The mist was not around the whole stack, but hovering over THE workbook in particular. It was a spell that had been activated, but had been unable to do its job.
Only one person in the Citadel would be able to withstand this particular spell, but how had she gotten through Joshua's barrier without triggering it somehow?!
He began anxiously flipping through the workbook. Bachlan was no fool when it came to knowing what his Guardians could do, and remembered having to reset the spell on this book not long ago. He had pegged it down to a petty rebelliousness on Eziban's part, or perhaps even a childish prank. However, if the boy was working with Oriana, then that made the situation a bit more serious. Bachlan would have to keep a sharp eye on her, to determine what she had seen or what she could know.
He paused at that thought. Oriana had lost her skills in the Atlantean language after all of this time. Solana had rarely spoken it in front of them, and Oriana had respected her feelings. Her softheartedness had cost her again. But if someone had looked at this specific book twice, then there would have to be a reason. To send off what they found to the one person they knew could translate it...
A devilish grin grew on Bachlan's face as he returned to his chambers for a restful night's sleep for the first time in a long, long while. This was marvelous. Somehow, Oriana had tracked down his little runaways for him, and was even kind enough to send the invitations. No matter how much Oriana had found, it would be enough to bring them back into his grasp.
Then, he could give back to Merna the glory and purity it deserved.
After breakfast, Oriana returned to her chambers to pick up a little needlework to pass the time and help her think. Eziban had been a bit jumpy and she had been a bit quiet at the morning meal, but Bachlan hadn't appeared to notice. Actually, the Memory Guardian had seemed oddly jovial for once, even engaging Raoul in some conversation about storms in the forests of Deynain.
Even more surprising, he had sent off Eziban and Raoul to the city of Ninaz to pick up some supplies and had given the rest of them a day off from their duties.
With no recent calls for healing, Oriana decided to try to figure out what to do with their newfound knowledge. The Life Guardian returned to her chambers, leaving the door open in case she was needed, and got herself settled into her favorite chair. Nearby was her sewing basket with her current embroidery project resting on top. She carefully threaded a needle and began stitching a spray of goldenrod in a meadow scene, the busy work leaving her mind free to ponder.
She knew that Solana and Aryn would be working to find out about this 'Great Birth' and what interest Bachlan would have in it, but the papers in her hand perhaps held more of the clues that would narrow down their search. Haji's debt was clear, so that method of contact was severed unless a new blood debt contract was drawn up.
Though uncommon, transportation to other worlds was not unheard of. Certainly there were plenty of ports with captains that would be willing to take an anonymous traveler without asking any questions for the right price. She found herself wishing that she had insisted on accompanying the boys on their trip, but of course it was too late for that.
Oriana expertly knotted off her starting thread, then snipped it. After rethreading her needle, the Life Guardian sighed as an uncharacteristic wave of frustration passed through her. She glanced from her embroidery frame to the sheets covered with unfamiliar and forgotten words that could hold so many keys as if willing them to surrender their meaning to her. If only they had their Atlantean here, back at home with them and her oceans and her books-
The Life Guardian gave a start that knocked the wad of fabric that she had been working on to the floor.
Books!
Why had she not thought of books?
When Solana had been sent here from Atlantis as her new student and later joined their ranks as a Guardian, she had brought her entire library with her to add to their own. Naturally, a large number of the books were in her native tongue. An avid reader herself, Oriana had enjoyed long chats with her new young friend about various texts that they had both read and the ideas contained within. Some had been for enjoyment alone, while others held more philosophical ideas that they had unraveled together. There had been one in particular...
"So, you don't agree with Titiu's ideals in ruling?" Oriana asked in amusement, her copy of the man's philosophy in hand.
Solana shook her head vehemently, her silver eyes flashing her dislike. "Anyone of any position should be allowed to create their own destiny!" she objected, glaring down at her book in disgust. "I cannot fathom why Kiel insisted that I buy this! The Elders of Atlantis come... came from all walks of life."
"Darling, it can be useful to study that which we don't agree with, if only to remind us of why we stand for the values we do. Or perhaps as a way of finding common ground with views that we may not necessarily embrace," Oriana suggested.
"Maybe. If Kiel also thought it was that important, then maybe I'll hold onto it and try again when I'm older," Solana decided, fingering the green and gold cover with a newfound respect.
Green and gold, green and gold... Oriana found her own copy of Titiu's Discourse on the Fate and Rights of Man and practically flew to their library. Surely, if the book had been a suggestion from her beloved teacher, Solana wouldn't have tossed it.
Their library had been inherited from the Golden Ones who had once occupied their citadel, though of course it had been dramatically expanded throughout the millennia. The ceiling was easily four stories from the ground floor, and every inch of every wall and much of the ground floor was packed with shelves containing a world's ransom of tomes and scrolls and thick volumes of every subject that could be dreamed of. The more valuable or ancient books were wrapped in protective spells against wear and tear and also fire. Light was provided only by electric lights, glowing crystals, or the immense skylight set into the ceiling spelled to hold sunlight until needed. Work tables and thick, oversized chairs were scattered throughout the space, while a small refreshment area held the necessities for making drinks and a bowl of fruit and pastries so that the reader didn't have to make a long trip to the kitchen. Thankfully, Oriana seemed to have the enormous chamber all to herself.
All of Solana's books from Atlantis were tucked towards the back and kept magically protected all of this time. There were gaps on the shelves which had formerly housed books that had accompanied Solana on her travels, but most of these dealt with other worlds or were treasured keepsakes. A dusty old philosophy book that she didn't even agree with would have been dead weight on her journey.
Or so Oriana hoped.
She skimmed through the shelves quickly, hunting desperately for that one green and gold volume. A rainbow of covers flashed by in a blur- blue oceanography texts, lilac and tan tomes of healing, tales and legends of other worlds done in many colors. Shelf after shelf after shelf passed her eyes as her search grew more frantic.
Finally, tucked between an Atlantean volume on freshwater fish and history was the treasure she sought. Oriana pulled it out carefully, delighted to see that it was still in one piece, and matched it to her own copy with a huge sigh of relief.
But she couldn't relax just quite yet. Oriana tucked both books into one of her voluminous sleeves, then carefully rewrapped her yellow shawl around herself to disguise any bulges. She made sure to dust off her dress and hands carefully. Finally, the Life Guardian made herself commit to a normal walking pace back to her chambers, though her heart was pounding and eager to decipher any secrets scribbled by Eziban the night before.
Only Bachlan was in the common area, engrossed in some reports. He glanced up at her momentarily before his gaze was again commanded by the scattered sheets in front of him. Oriana dipped her head in acknowledgment and continued onto her chambers at the same leisurely pace, then casually shut the door with the same sense of triumph experienced when defeating a stubborn illness.
But Bachlan had noticed her flushed face, and the forced slowness of her walk. Chuckling, he picked up a letter from the duchy of Mila to read through and decided to give her a little more time and false hope before he sprang his trap.
With that supply list, the boys weren't going to be back home anytime soon.
Sagia had changed a lot in almost twenty thousand years, Solana decided as she surveyed the city that was still Merna's scholarly capital. She had made her first home in Merna here, when Kiel had sent her away from Atlantis to escape its Fall. This was where Oriana had begun teaching her the secrets of healing, and where she had made the decision to become a Guardian that would alter her life's path forever. Come to think of it, she herself had changed far more than even a city.
Solana made herself let go of her past as she smoothed down her disguise. Clad in a simple rose peasant dress and veil, her hair and eyes illusion-tinted a maple brown, she knew that her attempt to stay inconspicuous would be wasted if people started wondering why she was staring off into space. Looking around cautiously, she found a crowd of students heading to the enormous library that crowned the city's hill and followed them as if she belonged.
Tucking the veil a little more snugly over her hair, Solana reentered the library's doors for the first time since her journey with Aryn had begun. She heard greetings, complaints of professors, desperate searches for papers and loud demands for certain books and scrolls, and felt a knot of tension in her chest dissolve at the familiar atmosphere. Some things stayed the same in all libraries, no matter the world.
This one was a lot different and a lot bigger compared to the last time she had been here, though. Nothing was where it had been, so she decided to try the help desk.
The few librarians present looked harassed, filling out slips of paper to hand to kids and finding books stored behind their table. One scowled at Solana's approach. "Let me guess- you're from that history class, too? What topic did you get assigned?"
Solana felt a huge relief at having been provided with a cover, and thought fast. "The ancient history, before the Guardians were established."
She groaned. "The OLDEN days," she remarked in sympathy. "Most of the books don't go back that far, but we have one guy who actually LIKES keeping track of that dusty old stuff." She grabbed a slip of paper and scribbled a name and office number on it before shoving it to Solana. "Gentleman name of Jarkeb. Office is on the fourth door to the right in that hallway in the back. If you're lucky, he'll stop blabbing before your paper's due."
Solana accepted the paper gratefully. "Thank you for your help, ma'am. It's very important."
"I'm sure your professor's told you that many times. If all these coots have to assign papers at the same time, the least they could do is help us out a bit..." the librarian muttered. She waved her on and turned to a student behind Solana searching for texts on the construction of bridges.
Dodging the flood of students pawing at the countless shelves around her, Solana followed the directions to the right door and knocked. A pleasant voice invited her inside. Sitting behind a desk heaped with dusty texts and old manuscripts was a gentle-looking apple-cheeked elderly man. He smiled up at Solana with twinkling eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses and pointed to the overstuffed chair in front of his desk. "Good day, miss, and please take a seat. I am Jarkeb. What can I help you find out today?"
Solana shook his hand before sinking into the comfy chair he'd indicated. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm here seeking information on the history of our world before the Guardianship was established."
His eyes lit up. "Ah! Yes, I do have some texts relating to that time period, Miss... erm, what was your name?" the man asked, turning in his chair to start looking over the shelf directly behind his desk.
Solana felt a momentary panic before answering with the first name that popped into her head. "Trellia. My name is Trellia." She had always loved Kiel's stories of Ecco's angel-like descendent bringing their hero to a future ocean that was sentient, and the highly evolved dolphins that lived in harmony with it. Maybe being in a library and masquerading as a student had caused that story to surface in her mind.
Jarkeb turned back around, setting a pile of books on his desk. Apparently, he was completely unaware of Solana's flub. "Miss Trellia. Is there anything in particular that you're interested in?" he asked.
"Yes, I heard the phrase 'Great Birth' from an old friend, and am curious as to what it pertains to," Solana replied blandly.
Jarkeb's eyes widened. "Your friend is well-read. That's a theory that's almost died out over time." Picking up a specific book written in an ornate elven script, he began leafing through it. Solana reached into her pack and pulled out her magical book to transcribe anything useful, choosing not to answer the comment.
"Let's see... Mila breaking away from the Monsee Empire... no, further back than that. The Rise of the Classes... no, more than that....here, in the very beginning. 'Scholars have suggested that our world used to be a very different place, countless millennia ago. All of our land was underwater, volcanic activity was chaotic, lightning flashed in heavy black clouds, and hurricane-level winds swept continuously across the endless waters.'" Jarkeb took a moment to push his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, then smiled at Solana. "It makes one appreciate our Guardians today, does it not?"
Solana didn't meet his eyes. "I am very grateful to the Lady Oriana, personally."
Jarkeb nodded approvingly and turned back to his book. "'With the elements running rampant, the only species able to thrive was that of the enigmatic sea serpents, which were reputed to be able to draw nutrients directly from the raging waters and anomaly in the skies. Their own origin, whether they themselves evolved from the primordial soup of the oceans or are immigrants like ourselves remains a mystery.'"
Solana rested her chin in one hand in thought, her mind as always intrigued by an unknown concerning her seas. The serpents seemed to prefer dealings with other aquatic creatures compared to people, and were very rarely sighted by sailors in Merna's waters. Even she had seldom glimpsed them during her tenure as the Water Guardian. Some considered them a myth, while others like those in Monsee gave them honor.
But that line of thought was for another day. Jarkeb apologized for going off-topic and found his place in the book to continue. "'However, this all changed during an event that would be known as the 'Great Birth'. Light and warmth came, receding the high waters to reveal land. Puffy white clouds replaced the sulfur, and gentle breezes replaced the former harsh winds. Volcanic activity stabilized, adding new islands and remaking some of the land. Once suitable, life came to this treasure of a new world. It was then given the name of 'Merna', from the words 'mer' and 'nacer' translating to 'ocean-birth'.'"
"But how? What caused this change, and why?" Solana pressed, sensing something important was coming up.
"Now that's the funny thing, my dear. Legend has it that Merna itself did this," Jarkeb answered slowly. "Perhaps out of a sense of altruism to support more lifeforms than merely the serpents. Or perhaps the more accurate statement would be 'other lifeforms'."
Solana mulled this over. Certainly the idea of a living world was nothing new to her, from her studies and the stories she had heard from her friends and their bonds to the various forms of life. Still, she had never considered it in terms of Merna herself. Maybe Oriana would be able to shed some light on that possibility, the next time she was able to see her.
A sudden, painful wave of homesickness for the Life Guardian and the other friends she'd left behind rose up in her chest, and tears began burning in her eyes. Angrily, she shoved that wave back down and rubbed her eyes. No. Not now. You have plenty of work to do before even thinking of being ready to go back.
"Trellia, are you quite all right? Perhaps a short rest and a breath of fresh air would help you?" Jarkeb asked worriedly.
Solana made herself swallow the lump in her throat and looked down until she had her expression under control. "I'm fine, truly. Um, how did Merna go about creating the Great Birth?"
Jarkeb wordlessly handed over a handkerchief before going back to his book. Solana gratefully wiped her eyes and returned it as he found the next passage. "Thank you. Continuing with the theory of Merna being at the very least semi-sentient, it was able to channel its own inate power to gravitate the change and later produce the Guardian essences to help protect it. Bachlan was chosen as the Guardian of Memory, and... well, we all know how the rest of that story goes."
"Indeed we do. Jarkeb, thank you for your time," Solana said gratefully, getting to her feet and shaking his hand once more.
"I hope it has answered some of your questions, my dear. Feel free to return anytime," Jarkeb replied, nose already back in his book.
Solana shut the door behind her, sagging a bit. As seemed to be the case in her line of work, questions had been replaced with more questions. Why was Bachlan so interested in this 'Great Birth', anyway? As the Guardian of Memory, he had always been interested in history, but what merited keeping this hidden?
It was only one more piece in a constantly evolving puzzle. Try as she might, Solana couldn't see the big picture yet. Her face set in an expression of determination, she returned to the busy librarians at the help desk and asked for the history and philosophy sections.