I have been working on a story, writing it out by hand in this little rough-edged journal, and when I have a little time I add to it. I am continuing to share some more chapters. Please feel free to let me know your thoughts as they sink into the story.
Read the Prelude HERE.
Read Chapter I HERE.
Read Chapter 2 HERE.
Read Chapter 3 HERE.
Read Chapter 4 HERE.
Read Chapter 5 HERE.
Chapter VI
A few weeks later, she was sitting at a desk with stacks of books within arm's reach, in the most beautiful place to her seeking imagination - the library. In the air hung the scent of paper, leather, book binding materials, and that perfect book sweet vanilla musty-ness. It was not just a room, but a labyrinth of rooms as she had discovered, spanning several treetops and levels. A spiral staircase connected the two levels. Upon entering the library her first time, she felt the need to wander through each room to take it all in. To gaze upon such richness of books felt like an honour. Each day she sat in a different room, so as to experience the different feel, light, air, and space.
Her routine had become mundane to the unscrupulous. Breakfast in the hut. Chats with Miriam where she always asked her about herself to try to get her to open up. Each day she learned a little more, such as Miriam has a brother named Tive, who was one of the very few who chose to leave this realm. Her favourite fruit is an apricot variety that grows abundantly here, and she lives in a tiny hut on the level below. She learned that an attendant would traditionally stay on the level below the house they serve, for easy access, and ability to cook below and carry it up.
After breakfast of porridge with nuts, honey, fruit, and tea, she gathers her notebooks and her satchel, and walks the pathways to the library. She has discovered there are several ways to get there, and likely countless more she hasn't figured out yet. The paths connect and cross.
The morning birdsong would cheer up the grumpiest of souls. The misty, cool air was perfection. She needed her jacket each day. The view from the walkway was breathtaking. It amazed her that the whole village was above ground, in the trees. She had to go up a level, and then take a short walk by the Knotted Tree (an old, rare tree so she learned, that looked like the bark was tied in knots).
Then, the path to the library, her favourite journey. The building was the largest she had seen yet, but it branched off into different rooms, quite literally, since the trees have to support all the abundance of books. The windows are all placed so that light is natural and lamps rarely needed. If there are curtains anywhere, they are sheer. Windows are meant to be opened to let in light and air.
The librarian is Lady Kira, who was the other woman at that first meeting. She was elegant, knowledgeable, and keen-eyed. She knew where every book was stored, and gave off the air of having read every one. But how could she? She wasn't very old. Nella wondered how old she was, but was afraid to ask. Lady Kira wore her long black hair in a swirled bun, and donned rich, velvet jackets that made her appear scholarly, and perhaps she was.
Their conversations were engaging, and Nella felt that she learned an entire book-worth of information with every short talk. Lady Kira had a way of relinquishing knowledge onto others, enlightening them before they even know it.
Nella was there working on her assignments. Copying and learning the script and the specific words of Selador. The descriptions and the phrasing was so essential, Lady Kira explained one day, that the proper usage and way of writing had to be perfected. Then, she would leave Nella to her copy and practice in her notebooks, appearing every now and then to bring another book for her to learn.
She was reading and copying words from a book on natural elements. Water. A natural element that almost killed her as she entered this realm. She couldn't help but wonder again what was going on with the flood wall that came fast within moments of her being rescued by the guard. This realm had many secrets, she could sense them. She wanted to learn them. The mystery of the place enveloped her thoughts sometimes.
Her hand hovered over the page as she gazed at the word for water and all the descriptions, elementals, and characteristics of water. Aspects of water were filled with contradictions, such as being unpredictable like a flood and yet can be predicted like a tide; controllable and yet natural and out of our control. Readily available and yet scarce at times due to weather. Her pondering grew deeper for awhile until Master Nolan came in and interrupted her thoughts.
He has been the one teaching her about the books and the writing. He was a writer, researcher, and keeper of the books, not in the sense that a librarian keeps books, but the one who monitors certain books, because as she was learning, these books had a mysterious power. Certain books (The Books of Time, they were called, they all had a stamped round symbol embossed into the cover, with thick pages, and artisan feel) had a power to create and change the realm in which they lived, by way of words written in the book. Everything from the diction to the word selection was essential because a wayward word or one with a different meaning could change the properties of the realm.
"For example," Master Nolan had explained sitting down across from her, "If you wrote about the sky being blue and used all the descriptors of that blue but neglected to write that there was moisture in the air to create cloud formations to dot the blue, you could change the weather, which could have lingering effects on the landscapes that we don't know or understand. What we write in these books, how we phrase entries, will directly impact our world here as we know it, for good or ill."
Nella could feel the weight of the duty, and the privilege. To be a writer was to wield that power of change. But she did not understand one aspect, in particular.
"Why don't we simply stop writing in these books, put them away safe, and let this realm exist with what was already written?" she asked.
Master Nolan sat back and smiled at Nella. He appreciated her rational thoughts that would help her in her writing later on. He noticed in Nella a keen sense of awareness of what is around her, without prejudice. She sees and observes, and then dwells in those observations for a while. He held her gaze and looked into her eyes for a moment, and he saw the desire to know. She asked questions that were thoughtful and she clearly wanted to gain as much information as much as possible. She was hungry for it. He walked to a bookshelf lined with books of the ages. Written words of the realm that have come to pass. Words become life.
"Because this realm would not exist if it were not being sub-created constantly. Blank pages make a blank world. We must add a page of writing everyday, or this place will fade away." He watched her from across the table. Her green eyes were inquisitive; he could almost see the thousand questions dancing in her eyes. The magic of the books.
"If we are sub-creating this world, who created it?"
"The Divine One." He answered. "The Creator who is above all, gave us the power to change and create with the imaginings of our minds. I know your next question is why the Divine One doesn't force us to only create good. We are not forced in any way. The Creator wishes us to choose good on our own, and display our creativity for the good of others. That means some may choose to do ill, and that is what happened two ages ago, with many waters."
"Many waters?" Nella asked. Then she understand, "You mean the rushing flood of water that almost drowned me when I arrived."
"Indeed." Master Nolan looked grave. "That event, which occurs everyday, was written in from one of the Writer's Guild. He chose to do ill with his gift, and now we are separated, stranded here in a way because we cannot travel safely by land. The land becomes sea, and because it is a dense forest, a boat will be crushed, as the current in the water moves too quickly. Many have tried, and failed."
"Has anything been done to repair it? Surely another writer..."
Master Nolan nodded, "Yes of course. But you must understand the man who wrote it was the best writer we've ever seen; there has never been another to match his gift. No one since that age has been able to fix it." He watched her as she was beginning to see her role, and she listened intently. He could see the gears in her mind turning as she surmised solutions and possible ways to fix the realm.
"What happened to him?" She asked after a few moments.
"He escaped beyond the forest before the first flood, at least that is what gathered in the stories. He was never seen again."
She wondered if he escaped into the tunnel, from which she emerged. If he got inside, he would be protected, transported to another place, and still alive.
"The tunnel..." she began.
"Yes, we assume so. Which means he has been able to move to different realms, and would be very difficult to ever track down."
"Do people here desire to leave?"
"The other realms reached by the tunnel have no guarantee of being pleasant. We love our place here, and wish to keep it beautiful and peaceful. Because of the floods we rarely have people come or go, due to the danger. You just barely made it in. Another minute and you would have been swallowed by many waters.
She wondered how so many writers could not correct the floods, and it occurred to her that they didn't know from whence it came. If they knew its origin or cause, they could reverse it. She would need to study those volumes, and she did. She assumed that he would have slowly hidden pieces of the changes over many multiple entries. Maybe even years, which means it wouldn't be an easy fix.
She told Master Nolan this idea and he answered with a smile. He knew there was something about Nella that was special. She brought light to the situation. He had been reviewing her test notebooks that she practised in. Soon, he thought, she would be able to take the writing from him. He was just a stand-in for that position, anyway.
The mastery of this writing skill was a lot of work, and Nella threw herself into it, largely staying tucked away at the library most days and nights. But one evening, Master Nolan approached her, looking over her shoulder he saw great work being done. As she looked up to him with a question on her lips, he snapped her book closed, and told her to head out to the Festival of Lights.
It was the change of season celebration, and the whole village gathered at the centre, where there were open spaces filled with tables, chairs, food spread over every table, music playing, circle dancing, and twinkle lights cascading from every tree. It was magical, and the moment she stepped up to the main centre, a handsome man pulled her into the dance. It was easy to catch on to the steps, and the wooden flutes, stringed instruments, and fairy lights made the whole scene seem like a storybook tale.
She didn't notice that almost every eye was on her as she danced. She didn't see the curiosity in their eyes. She twirled, she drank an earthy mixture that seemed to be fermented, she ate delicious fare, and she found herself laughing. She had spent all her days holed up studying that she hadn't explored or enjoyed the culture of Selador much. Each time she discovered something new, it opened up another door deeper into the heart of the people. They were a peaceful people who seemed to love the place and the history.
Children wore flowers in their hair and danced merrily. Even the elder ones danced and the children put flowers in their hair. After the meal, Master Louver got up to speak, and a quiet filled the twinkled space as he told the tales of Selador. Stories of heroes, betrayals, mysteries, and the coming of many waters and the trials caused by it. The whole village was moved to the treetops, for before it was mostly at ground level. Through facing the trials and working together, the realm was now a place of light, beauty, and peace. To Nella it was clear that the traitor intended to kill them all. The story, indeed, had taken a darker turn.
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