Chapter 50

We returned to the library, and she immediately began to look around, wary and alert. It was as empty as when we’d left, every shelf and shadow unchanged - yet that strange, unnatural pressure still clung to the air.

“When is your master due back?” I asked.

“I am unsure,” she said. “But everything must be in order when he returns. He does not approve of idleness.”

“Can I help with anything?” I offered. “At least let me pick up the books I knocked over.”

“My master would not approve of you touching his things.”

“Fair enough,” I said. I hesitated, then added, “Could I come back sometime? Maybe when you’re not working. Just to talk. You could show me around - around the city, I mean.”

“What city?” she asked.

“Oh. I just assumed the tower was in a city. Or a town. Or… something.”

“No,” she said. “There are no settlements for miles.”

“Then maybe we could just take a walk outside?”

“I am forbidden from leaving the library.”

“Really? Where do you sleep?”

She pointed. “I have a room there, where I rest.”

“And who brings you food?” I asked.

“I have no need to eat while I remain in the library,” she replied, as if stating the most obvious fact in the world.

I frowned. “Hold on. You’re not allowed to leave the library.” She nodded. “You don’t eat.” Another nod. “There’s no one else around?” Again, yes. “Are there other servants you can talk to?”

She shook her head.

“So you’re the only one in this tower?”

“I have seen no one else,” she said, “save my master.”

“And when was the last time you saw him?”

A faint flush crept across her cheeks. “Fifteen years, two hundred thirty-seven days, and seven hours.”

“You’ve been alone here for almost sixteen years?” I blurted. She flinched. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “I just - And you never left? Never tried to see what was going on?” She shook her head again.

I exhaled slowly. “I’m coming back tomorrow,” I told her. “I’m bringing you some food. Maybe we’ll take a short walk.” Her eyes flickered with a spark of panic. “Through my demesne,” I clarified. “Don’t worry,” I added gently. “Just a short walk. We wouldn’t want your master to think you’re being idle.”

She relaxed, just a little.

“For now, I need to go,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, feeling that familiar tug deep inside me once more. Then I stepped away - and home.

* * *

I told the girls what I’d discovered at the library. Mirri immediately volunteered to make an extra plate for breakfast the next morning, already planning what to add. Serah, on the other hand, went quiet - thoughtful in that way she got when something didn’t quite fit together yet.

The rest of the day unfolded as it so often did - classes, training with Adhaneth, dinner, then wandering my Faith-scape. Part of me still felt ridiculous sitting cross-legged with a pack of pre-teens, asking questions they considered obvious while they patiently explained the world to me. But I was learning a lot and I cherished both the knowledge and the time with them.

Adhaneth was close now. A few more days and the new form would be ready to show the others. The progress filled me with a giddy excitement I hadn’t felt since childhood, that breathless sense of “look what I can do”.

My demesne never stayed the same for long. One night it snowed softly; another brought warm, tropical rain. Some evenings were cool and clear, the sky threaded with drifting ribbons of color. The moths I’d noticed before were still there, and now bats had joined them, cutting sharp silhouettes through the twilight.

There was no sun here - no moon either - but the light waxed and waned with the world outside. It never truly grew dark, only dim enough to suggest night without stealing sight. Or maybe that was just me. My night vision had improved dramatically in the past month. Darkness no longer bothered me. Midnight felt almost as clear as noon. Complete darkness was still untested - but that test was on my list.

The next morning, after chores and breakfast, I collected an extra helping of Mirri’s egg and potato pie - still hot - along with a couple of sausages, and stepped back to the library.

The moment I appeared inside the tall, rectangular tower, that strange, alien sensation crept up my spine. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough to set my nerves humming.

The pale woman from before was two floors up, shelving books. I cleared my throat, and she nearly leapt out of her skin.

“You are here!” she called, her voice echoing through the cavernous silence. She flushed, hastily set the stack of books aside, and hurried down the stairs to meet me.

I smiled, even as that sense of dread intensified with her approach. There was no doubt now - it came from her.

“I am,” I said. “And I brought breakfast. I hope you like egg and potato pie. Mirri’s is the best.” I held out the plate and fork.

She accepted them hesitantly, staring at the food as though it were some kind of puzzle. She tried to spear the pie and nearly upended the entire plate. I caught it just in time, my fingers brushing hers - and there was that tug again. She flinched and let go entirely.

“Why don’t we set it down over here?” I suggested.

She watched as I placed the plate on a nearby table and pulled out a chair for her, then took the seat opposite. After a long pause, she joined me, eyeing me with cautious suspicion.

She picked up the fork again, stabbed the slice of pie, and lifted the whole thing toward her face. She sniffed it, examined it, then took a tentative bite.

Her face lit up.

She immediately tried to shove the entire slice into her mouth. She made a heroic effort, but physics won. Half the pie fell back onto the plate, crumbs scattering across the table. She didn’t seem to notice.

Her cheeks puffed as she chewed, and I worried she might ****. The instant she freed even a sliver of space, she reached for the fallen half and tried again.

I reached out and gently touched her hand. The tug flared. Her eyes snapped to mine - she flinched and flushed crimson.

“It’s alright,” I said softly. “Slow down. Enjoy it. It’s not going anywhere.”

She set the second half back down and chewed more carefully. “It’s good, right?” I asked.

She nodded vigorously. I watched her eat, smiling without restraint, her feet tapping beneath the table like she couldn’t contain the joy.

When the pie was gone, she attacked the sausage with the same enthusiasm, biting it clean in half as juice ran down her chin. Her eyes were wide with wonder. When she finished, she stared down at the empty plate with something like sorrow.

“I can bring more tomorrow, if you’d like,” I offered.

Her face lit up instantly. “Yes, please!”

“I’m Seth, by the way,” I said. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly yesterday.”

She looked down, blushing. “There is no need to apologize.” Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “My name is Elise.”

“Elise,” I repeated. “That’s a pretty name.”

She blushed again.

“Did your master return yesterday?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“That’s a shame,” I said. “I’d like to meet him.”

“My master does not like guests,” she replied.

“Do you like guests?” I asked.

She considered that for a long time. “I have never had a guest,” she said slowly. “Before you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “A guest now and then helps break up the monotony.” She mulled that over, then I asked, “So what are your duties here?”

“I ensure all books are present and properly ordered, that the library is neat and free of dust, and that no one enters without my master’s permission.”

I carefully avoided the last part. “I understand the dusting,” I said, “but why would a book go missing?”

Her eyes widened in shock. “If a book were stolen, my master would be furious!”

“Has that ever happened?”

“Not while I’ve protected the library,” she said, pride threading her voice.

“Fair enough,” I said. “But if no one’s been here since your master left, how do the books get out of order?”

She flushed and looked away. “Sometimes… I remove a book to read it.”

I smiled. “I wouldn’t blame you. With a library like this, I’d read all day.”

She beamed, then shook her head. “Oh, I could not do that. My duties keep me far too busy.”

I nodded, understanding without understanding at all.

“Do you want to take a walk in my demesne?” I asked.

She nodded shyly.

* * *

I watched the man make his way up the path from Reedwatch toward our home. He carried a simple sword, a shield strapped across his back, and a battered steel breastplate that had seen better years. Road-dust clung to him - fatigue sat heavy in his shoulders. For a human, he was utterly unremarkable - short brown hair, dark eyes, average height, a warrior’s build worn into him rather than carved by glory. His scars announced themselves without boasting. He’d never seen war, but he’d seen enough fights to survive them.

I stepped onto the path a hundred feet ahead of him.

He froze. His hand drifted toward his hip, then stopped short of drawing. I stood there, axe resting at my side, shield on my back, saying nothing. The silence stretched. His unease deepened.

“I’m… uh… I don’t want any trouble,” he said at last.

I didn’t move.

“I’m just- I’m just a messenger,” he went on, words tumbling faster now. “I have a message to deliver.” He hesitated, glancing past me. “Ahead.” His voice tightened. “I’m… do you know an orc named Ashlara?”

My brow lifted.

“I was told she lived in a house down this way,” he said quickly. “I just want to deliver the message and be on my way. I don’t want any trouble.”

I swept my gaze over the trees and the path, knowing no one else was there. I’d watched him for half an hour - alone the entire time - but the hairs on my neck prickled all the same. No one should have known I was here. The only ones who might look for me were Hek and his men. Were the others safe? Was this bait? A threat? A way to stall me?

I drew my axe.

“I’m Ashlara,” I said.

He flinched back a step. “I was hoping you were,” he said quickly. “You look like he said you would.” He fumbled at a small satchel and pulled free a folded paper. “I’ll, uh… I’ll just leave this here for you.”

He set the paper carefully on the ground, weighed it down with a small stone, and retreated several paces. “So… message delivered, right?” His voice wavered. “I can go now?”

I advanced at an even pace, axe still in hand, watching his every breath. He retreated again. I bent, picked up the message without taking my eyes off him, and gave a short nod.

That was all he needed. He backed away, then turned and jogged down the path, not slowing until he vanished from sight.

Only then did I unfold the paper.

It was brief. The writing was neat, precise.

Come to Wolfsend. I need you now. It’s important.
~Chamberlin

I stared at the words. My hand began to shake. A tightness closed around my chest. The world tilted; my vision blurred. I couldn’t breathe.

Was it really him?

I needed to know. I needed to know what had happened - why he’d left, where he’d gone, what this meant.

I turned and ran for home as fast as my legs would carry me.