It wasn’t the tallest tower in this palace, but it was the largest. Mainly in width, to make room for all the books. Girthy. It was a girthy tower and I’m sure countless have poked fun at it for that.
Entering through a single large door, the air was crisp, cool, the sll of paper, bindings, and books caught , making stop. It was nostalgic, for I love books, but its layout reminded of the Temple of the Gods, which housed the mirror I so desperately wanted to . . . see, just see, one more ti. The books were stacked along every wall, including the circular staircase that shallowly rose near the wall of the tower itself.
A little ways from them, steps led down into a sunken eting area with rows of benches and a podium. This library was a place for discussion and scholarly presentation, it seed. More than we had back in my kingdom, kind of making feel . . . inadequate. Our nobles hoarded books for their own delight, forcing academics and judges to co to them, to discuss problems only with them. That selfishness stalled progress and the sharing of ideas.
We really were the weapons guys. Not the philosophy or the history guys, but the ‘check out this new innovation and how well it dismbers people!’ guys. Ugh. As soon as I sorted this ss out, assuming I survived, I’d do what I promised Morry so many, many months ago, and build a university. Perhaps one in every city of my new empire. If, if I could keep it.
Stepping further in, one of the soldiers who’d escorted here, along with st and her crew, whom I reminded myself to speak with, get to know, but there just hadn’t been any ti, called out, “Her Divine Royal Highness, God-empress Cayce!”
A tiny, cringing part of regretted making the whole god thing known. On the one hand, if it helped solidify my fragile power here, good. On the other, it had to be pushing so people to consider turning into spell components.
A single man wearing rather plain clothing, with a short bowl-type haircut, standing in front of a slanted table, scroll rolled out atop, looked over, beca shocked, fully faced us, and bowed.
“Ah, excuse ,” I walked toward the lone person, who flinched because the eight soldiers and eight bodyguards, all loaded up with weapons, also headed toward him, “is there a man nad ‘Talaren’ here sowhere?”
Face drained of color, without speaking, the man pointed up.
“Thank you,” I said, and then began climbing the long, spiral staircase. It wasn’t just books along its sides, but many, many scrolls and scroll cases in diamond shaped wooden shelves, stacks of single papers in square shelving, probably letters or sothing, and paintings covering the dead space here and there. I briefly wondered if any of them were of this body’s family.
The stairs and shelving were generally free of dust. Soone, or a bunch of soones, had to be maintaining the place. Lighting was provided by many windows along the tower, with unlit candles evenly spaced along the walls.
The shelving was on both sides, and the stairway itself was wide enough for three people to walk abreast. I knew this because in front of soldiers were walking two by two, in sets of four, and they had room for one more.
I sighed. “Alright, guys, you did it. You brought to the library safe and well protected. Uh, could you stay here? Or peruse the books? I’m going to speak with the mage alone.”
After a chorus of honorifics and affirmatives, st crossing her arms, following a short distance behind, watching, I made my way through the soldiers, climbed so more stairs, and found Talaren sitting in a bit of an alcove between the second and third floors, where a space had been made for two large chairs near a fireplace. Still dayti and sumr, sunlight streaming through the windows, the fireplace was unlit and had no wood in it. He didn’t look up.
I tapped on the table, sat, and said, “Good afternoon. I ca to talk to you about the Temple of the Gods.” It was a nice chair, comfortable.
The mage held up his forefinger, not so much as glancing up, then dropped it slowly and steadily atop the page, probably marking the sentence he was reading, before finally raising his eyes to mine, saying, “Oh! I did not expect to see you again soon.”
“Then you weren’t in the throne room. I retook my freedom. Also, my empire.” For whatever reason that made feel guilty, I glanced away before saying, “What have you found? Talaren, I sincerely hope you’re researching how to either beat the otherworldly horrors about to escape your dinsional prison or so way to make the prison inescapable.”
“I am.” He sat back, crossed a leg over the other, and against all reason but fully within every last stereotype I knew, drew a pipe out of a hidden pocket, then stuffed it with what I can only assu was tobacco.
“Are you seriously going to smoke in a library?”
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“It helps calm the mind.”
“Huh. Ok, then. Well? What did you find?”
“First of all, it’s not my prison. I find the entirety of it repulsive.” He held up his arms, the charcoal and gold bracelets still clamped about his wrists. “And was punished for those sentints.”
“Right, of course. I apologize for being flippant. Please,” I nodded, “continue.”
“The original prison was created by a very complex series of runes. I have begun to learn a very, very small part of it, but the whole escapes . Whoever designed this spell – you have to understand, it’s incredibly complex, akin to,” he waved his left hand carrying the pipe around, “writing a song in multiple languages using only geotry – was either a god himself or a genius. I am neither. Therefore, understanding this will take months, if not years.”
“Ah. I wonder if I can make heads or tails of it, then.”
Turning the book he was reading around, he pushed it over to , “Be my guest.”
“Well, what’s second? You started with ‘first of all.’ And?”
“That was second.”
“What’s third, then?”
“Third is that it was inscribed in blood. Divine blood. Are you ready for that, Princess Cayce?”
“They call God-empress now.”
He bowed, right hand circling in front of him in a mockery, “God-empress.”
“If it’ll shore up the prison, you can have all the blood I can give.”
“Noble of you. The larger problem is, I cannot cast this spell. Even with these damnable irons off. It is, I must admit, beyond . Perhaps you can?”
“Possibly. I hope so. Ok, probably not, but we can try. Please continue, though. Is there anything else you’ve discovered?”
“Yes. I don’t think these beings are gods. They’re often called ‘first beings’ or ‘first and last life.’ But they’re never worshipped, only feared. Multiple ntions of their insatiable hunger.”
“Ominous.”
“Yet, they cannot be the very first. Not if the gods created life. If so, then these were second. Though I don’t understand why gods would create sothing they would then fear.”
“Have you t humans?”
“What?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but gods fear you, perhaps the most. I don’t think those creatures are human, though. They, well, they were oddly reticent. All they wanted from was my na. Or my brother’s, father’s. I couldn’t quite tell and don’t fully understand why.” I looked away for a mont, at the volus on the other side of the aisle, “In there, my brother said not to speak aloud our nas. They have power, he said.”
“To control you. Or them.”
“Yes. Forget that for now. How is the ritual of inscribing the runes perford? Do we need special materials for it, or just so of my blood?”
“As far as I can tell, it’s written on obsidian. Or glass. I cannot quite be sure, but glass seems to work.”
“Glass?” Silicon dioxide mixed with a little heat. That did not narrow it down for . “Ah. You didn’t by chance find obsidian around, did you?”
“Not in the library.”
“Wait, wait. Huh.” I wondered. I’d previously realized that, because the Others live in multiple dinsions of ti, I needed to make sothing like a double-slit experint to place over the Trap’s exit. Sothing that would split them into multiple space dinsions, ssing them up or reducing their power, and hopefully not multiplying them. Here the mage was telling that glass, or volcanic glass, was originally used to create the prison. “Only one can leave.”
“What’s that, my lady?”
“It’s what my brother said to . Before I escaped the dinsional trap. Talaren, we can use obsidian to force the Others into halves, split their existence or being or souls. Or, perhaps, prevent their escape. I think we can do it. But, how? Just placing it over the mirror? That’s where I erged.”
“I don’t understand what you an.”
“Like a prism. Have you played with one, split light into a rainbow?”
“Played? We used them in experints.” He sat up straight, waving his unlit pipe around.
“Good, then you’ve seen how light can be split up by them.” That made wonder about magic itself, “Did you also split magic using prisms?”
“That was the goal, but to my knowledge, it’s never been achieved. So mages reported limited success with obsidian, but, ah, all that is written on that subject is now gone, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, true. For what purpose were you using prisms with magic?”
“An attempt to stabilize a glyph or series of glyphs on, for example, a wall or floor.”
“Wait.” It hit like a brick. Soone had succeeded, at so point. “No successes?”
“None that I know of, but as you know, I wasn’t,” he took a breath, “once I learned more about where magic ca from, I lost interest in exploring it further.”
“Talaren, I think your fellows were successful. And I think the glyphs they stabilized, as you call it, created a portal. They called the Others, perhaps even my brother here.” I leaned forward, clasping my hands, “We don’t have to build a giant prism to cover the mirror, we need to stabilize it using a magical glyph, probably with obsidian.”
“My lady, I just now explained that I have no idea how to do so. Or what rune or glyph to construct.”
“It would be a complex one. It wouldn’t have been taught to you. Oh! I know a glyph that can weaken, even steal the power from the others.” The one that was carved into my back. Twice. Not sothing I could ever forget, the pattern itself also wasn’t sothing you could easily rember, but I had drawings. Two would be at Castle Bechalle, and one with Etienne’s journal, which would still be at the Temple.
Pushing away from the table, I stood. “I need you to keep searching. See if you can learn anymore from these books. I know where we can find a glyph from which to create our own. But first, first I have to end this stupid war.”
“One last thing, Empress.”
I turned back, “Yes?”
“Do you know any way we can learn their nas? These beings you call the Others?”
I pointed at him, “Talaren, that is an idea worth pursuing. Try to find what they’re called in these books. I might be able to learn that . . . an idea just ca to , but I can’t do it here.”
“What is it?”
“Let consider it further. Learn what you can and we’ll confer later.” Walking down the stairs, I wondered. It was just possible they would know who the Others were. I was pretty sure they recognized , once upon a ti, and so we didn’t fight, and I didn’t burn down their forest. And it was not a thing to share with the mage, lest he beco more fearful than he already was.
Now, though, I had to see if the enemy accepted my parley. And then go have a nice chat with them.
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