EchoesOfFate[continued from Debriefing] “You’re late,” Margarita chimed with unrestrained pleasure when Gillian finally reached the library. Her familiar - an expressionless toad named ‘Surly’ - provided a belching ribbet from atop her head. “I know you’re Probbies’ favorite, but do you think you can wait until at least the second week before letting things slide?" "But Margarita, I'm only the Professor's favorite because you make me look so good," Gillian smiled, managing to keep most of the sarcasm out of her voice. She dumped her books on a nearby table. Margarita’s face scrunched up as she tried to determine if she’d just been insulted or provided with acknowledgement of her superior nature. With a happy snort, she decided on the latter. “Oh! And last I checked, I’m not your social planner. I spent ALL morning dealing with your boyfriends coming in, one after the other. I mean seriously, Gillian. Where do you find the time?” "Boyfriends?" Gillian repeated, with emphasis on the plural. She raised her eyebrows. "Who are you talking about?" Margarita nodded, “Uh-huh. One creepy tall guy with black skin and white hair. Looks like he eats small rodents for sustenance. And some rugged-dopey looking guy from House Karm. Neh-oooo sense of humor either one of them.” Temnal was likely the first visitor—Gillian rolled her eyes at the "eats small rodents" comment—but who was the second? She didn't know anyone from House Karm. Perhaps someone from one of her classes? "Did the guy from House Karm leave a name?" Gillian asked. Margarita shrugged, “Do I look like a stenographer? I think he said it to Probbes, but I wasn't paying attention." She closed her book, “Oh yeah. And Professor Gammel Dore was in the Transfiguration section again. Took everything down, as usual. I would have shelved them, but I was. . . you know. . . busy.” She ran an Emory board over her orange fingernails and yawned. Gillian sighed. "I'll do it." At least it will get done correctly this way. "Is Professor Hobbs in his office?" “Yeah, he’s having one of his old-fart moments,” Margarita replied. “Been in the restricted stacks all day, muttering to himself." Gillian frowned. [Margarita] quickly shoved her book into her arm bag. Not quick enough though. Gillian recognized it as Lujei Piche's Apocrypha - a highly dangerous tome on soul transfer enchantments. "Why Margarita...you thinking of switching places with your familiar? And soul transfer must be...what...at least a fifth circle enchantment?" Gillian stepped in front of the other girl, blocking her way. "That's a restricted book, you know. It needs to stay in the library," she continued pleasantly. "Give it to me and I'll shelve it on the way to Transfigurations." Margarita put her fists on her corseted hips, “Maybe I was trying to help you find a real personality.” A disgruntled pause. “Okay, I’m doing some research for Professor Opalneria for your information. She’s taken a shine to me. This is for my private lessons. How about you? Huh? You getting an invite for extracurricular training?” Girl, you have no idea. "Then why didn't you just clear it with Professor Hobbs?" Gillian asked. She put her hands out. Margarita paused, searching for a believable falsehood. The frog gave a bored ribbet, startling the girl. “Fine! Take it.” She shoved the book into Gillian’s hands. Gillian took the book carefully, almost reverently. She lowered her eyes, not feeling very victorious at all—more still on edge, if anything—and left for the Restricted section of the library. Margarita shot daggers at Gillian’s back as the woman walked away; fortunately, they were of the metaphorical variety. True to her associate’s claims, Gillian found the Restricted Section in cyclonic disorder; the dim threads of stained-glass light illuminating open books and ill-stacked tomes of dark magic. Most of the books were philosophical and pratical discussions on the Purification Arts - also known as Alkahestry. Gillian sighed. What a mess. It was going to be a long night. She replaced Piche's Apocrypha on the bookshelf. After straightening up here and in Transfigurations she would go talk to the Professor, and maybe afterward she'd have some time to explore the new door Seabhac pointed out to her that morning before midnight struck. Gillian idly noted the content of any open pages as she picked up the books to reshelve. It wasn't that she was being intentionally nosy into the Professor's business—she was assuming this was his mess, since Margarita said he'd spent the day back here—she just couldn't help herself. It was also rather odd for the Professor to leave books unshelved himself, especially ones regarding Dark Magic. Not just odd, but actually unsettling. Unfortunately, Gillian couldn’t glean the true purpose behind the Professor’s apparently random search. Most of the books were far above her current level of schooling. The only entry she could guess at detailed the various points within a transfiguration circle. But it was unlike anything she’d ever read about. Once both the Restricted and Transfigurations sections were back in proper order, Gillian went looking for Professor Hobbs. She found him in the Rebman section, puttering about and talking to himself. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…” He hadn’t noticed her yet. Gillian walked up behind him. "Professor Hobbs?" He turned around and smiled - the age disappearing from his face momentarily. “Ah Gillian. I had wondered where you’d gotten off to. Did your friend Malachi find you? Such a polite, young man. And uncommonly curious. We had a delightful visit and discussed the Princess Mirelle and her grandfather. " The unknown boy was posing as her friend to get information? And he was "uncommonly curious" about Bob? Gillian froze, eyes wide and heart thumping. "I’d no idea you were researching such things.” He tugged on his ear hair, pausing. “Or were you? Hrm, I can’t quite remember now.” "Pr-Professor Hobbs, do you remember if Malachi said he was from Karm? And d-did he leave a message?" Gillian asked. “Aye. He must be a vassal or cousin of House Karm, for I have met her only son,” the Professor said with obvious distaste. “And a message. No. He told me he intended to wait for you, but I do believe I saw him and that dark-skinned chaosian you know leaving in somewhat of a hurry." Gillian furrowed her brow. "Temnal?" “Never asked the other boy’s name, I fear. I focused more on Malachi’s line of questions. Ah, yes. He did ask me about Dworkin’s brother, if that means anything too you. A most distasteful subject, truly.” "Brother?" The genealogies didn't mention a brother for Dworkin...but then again, most of them didn't name him as the current king's grandfather, either. "What did you tell him, if I may ask?" The Professor frowned, “This is not a conversation for the public. Let us retire to my office, shall we?” She hobbled through the library, holding his tongue until they reached the dark, warm interior of his sanctuary. “Fix us a cup of tea would you?” "Of course, sir." Feeling somewhat dazed, Gillian stepped to the sideboard and started the tea-making preparations mechanically. He sat down with great relief. “Dworkin’s brother - the Keeper of the Logrus - was more daemon than man. The Crawling Chaos they called him. The Formless One.” He pushed a copy of Carlyle’s The Whisperer in Darkness across his desk for her inspection - depicting a tall man wearing long flowing robes; a style befitting a desert culture. His face is hidden behind a funeral mask. Gillian poured hot water into two teacups and turned back to the professor. "They'll want a moment to steep," she said as she sat in the empty chair on the other side of his desk. She picked up the proffered book and squinted at the cover curiously before opening it to scan the table of contents. "If I may inquire, what specifically did this boy Malachi ask you, Professor Hobbs?" Hobbs tugged on his ear-hair, struggling to recall. “He asked about the Princess Mirelle and a location he called the Blue Room. Indeed, he was curious if you’d asked me much the same thing, my dear. Which is why I surmised you two might be writing a thesis on the late Princess." Gillian paused in her perusal of the book, trying to recall if she'd ever heard mention of a Blue Room. Nada. "No sir, we're not collaborating," she answered Hobbs, "I've not actually met him before." “He also wished to know about the Mad Prince - Dworkin - and how the old fellow died. He seemed quite certain that he’d met Dworkin, but of course that is impossible." Gillian's eyes went wide and she closed the book quietly. "Of course it is, sir," she managed weakly. “The Dead stay so,” he said, as if trying to convince himself of the statement. If only. "Um...how 'bout that tea?" Gillian asked brightly as she stood and placed Carlyle's book back on the desk. She returned to the sideboard and busied herself with the honey and milk, giving herself a moment to think. So Malachi had left with Temnal? That was some relief. Gillian knew Temnal would take good care of the situation, however the cards fell. It sounded as if they just added another member to their little night-time fraternity. How many more were there? Were they all on Dworkin's side? How did this Malachi guy know to find her, when she knew nothing of him? That was unsettling. Dworkin had a brother? She paused, spoon in midair. <Cybelle, did you know that?> Her Other appeared to be resting - as only silence answered her. Gillian turned around and brought a tray with the hot tea back to the desk. "Just milk in yours, sir, just the way you like it," she smiled, handing the old man his teacup. Hers was dosed liberally with both milk and honey and she cradled it in her hands as she sat back down, taking some comfort from its steamy warmth. The grizzled librarian lifted the cup to his lips and tested its heat. He took a sip and nodded in approval. "Sir, what happened to the brother? What was his name?" she asked, looking up. Professor Hobbs grew nervous and set his cup down to make the Sign of the Unicorn. “It is not a name that should pass one’s lips carelessly, Gillian,” he said. “Names have power and his was absolute, even this far from the Logrus.” He sighed, glancing from side to side. And this was exactly why Gillian wanted to know. The information might come in handy sometime...soon. Her grip on the teacup tightened. “Suhuy.” The room shivered at its utterance. “He was Avatar of the Logrus, a living representation of its chaotic nature. It is believed that he died during the PatternFall War, just as his brother, Dworkin, perished. A result of the Logrus and Pattern being torn asunder by Prince Brand’s terrible machinations. For that which happens to one side of the mirror, in turn, happens to the other. Only the planting of Ygg prevented both Logrus and Pattern alike from being utterly consumed in the Shadow Storms. “Or so it is said.” Gillian exhaled slowly, surprised to find she'd been holding her breath. "Thank you for your time, professor," she said, setting down her cup and standing. "I really should get back to work. Several of the stacks are a mess and need to be sorted out." Professor Hobbs smiled, clearly relieved that the conversation is at an end. “Of course, Gillian. Thank you again for the tea.” [continued in Garden of Pages] |
