Stepping into the Library elicited gasps from Guinevere and Sheena. Tobias smiled, taking in the sense of grandeur and intimacy that the Library offered, a welcoming mixture that inspired both awe and comfort. They stood within a long, towering hall. Bookshelves were stacked full on either side, all the way down the hall, and a second floor above them, with balconies overlooking the central lane, bore even more bookshelves. Down the center were various reading areas and study areas — tables with lamps ringed by comfortable chairs, sofas around glowing hearths in the floor, and special manuscripts on display in glass cases. Along the sides, at the end of each row of bookshelves, were marble busts of renowned scholars, artists, authors, and thinkers.
The ceiling was a marvelous fresco painting, all the way down the mile-long hall. What they could see most clearly here above them at the entrance was a dramatic rendition of the world as it was at the beginning: three realms in harmony, governed by the three Divine Songbirds. The Songbirds were depicted sometimes as huge, beautiful birds, sometimes as winged women, and sometimes as awe-inspiring dragons. Here the artist had opted for the first approach, the three Divine Songbirds portrayed as lovely blue-and-white birds with wings outstretched, beaks open wide in song.
A beautiful, captivating vision of the world long ago. A world before the Fracturing.
“This… but…” Guinevere started, gaping. “How can it be… so vast?”
“How could it not?” Alice asked, spinning in a circle, arms outstretched, looking more at home than Tobias had ever seen her. “Every single book ever written is contained herein. What did you expect?”
“Then this isn’t actually big enough, is it?” Sheena asked, eyeing the long aisles of shelves. “You couldn’t store every single book written even in this impressive hall.”
“An astute observation!” Alice said happily. “The Long Room is just one level of the Library. There’s so much more to see. But first, we should greet the Librarian.”
“He’s already expecting us,” Elliot said, leading the way with Ninian. Hector trotted along between them. “Though that shouldn’t be a surprise.”
“He’s always ready for visitors,” the Cheshire Cat said, floating along beside Alice. Tobias kept watching the Cat. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. He didn’t distrust him — Alice trusted him completely, and he’d brought them to the Library in one piece. Tobias watched him in curiosity, trying to understand this mysterious creature. He’d never even heard of a Cheshire Cat before, and he’d spent years learning as much as he could about Wonderia.
Flynn was similarly intent on Chesh, trying to make sense of him. Trying being the operative word. The big Cat’s smell kept changing — even Tobias noticed it — and smell was a valuable identifier for Flynn. It left him confused, uncertain what to make of this new entity.
“Have you been here long?” Tobias asked, in the front of the group with Elliot.
“We just arrived a short while ago,” Elliot said. “I thought you would have already been here. When the Librarian said you were on your way, we came back to greet you.”
Tobias took a breath. “Dare I ask about…?”
Elliot’s expression darkened. “The expedition into the ruins of Saoirse’s palace will take more than a month,” he said. “It could be even longer before we can say with any certainty what fate befell Saoirse. It’s all too vast, too complex. Her palace was already a veritable labyrinth of grandiosity. Now, ruined and twisted, every step invites danger. Even the best delvers need to explore it with great care. I’m to be informed as soon as my team knows anything. But it’s going to be a long wait. I wish I had better news.”
Tobias slipped into a brooding silence. Yes, he’d watched Saoirse fall into a seemingly bottomless chasm, the ruins of her palace collapsing over her. Yes, the Mirror was shattered and thus the heart of her great power destroyed.
And yet she was far more powerful than anyone realized. She was resourceful, clever, and, most dangerous of all, infinitely stubborn. If anyone could have survived that…
She very well might have. And the thought of it sent a shiver down Tobias’ spine.
Everything they passed — the marble busts, the displayed manuscripts, the continuous narrative of the fresco on the high ceiling — drew a captive audience. Guinevere, Ava, Sheena, Akko on Sheena’s shoulder, Elliot, Hector, and Ninian were all rapt with attention. The ceiling fresco now showed the Cantors, so similar to the Divine Songbirds’ more human-like appearance — men and women with beautiful wings — delivering the Canticos to the peoples of the realms. Alice was focused forward, though, but with energetic cheer. She was practically skipping, humming along softly, swinging her arms. Chesh floated along beside her, paying attention to… well, who could possibly know the Cat’s mind?
It was halfway down the vast Long Room that they started to hear music other than Alice’s humming. It was a song on a piano, and Tobias realized with surprise that it was the exact same melody Alice had been humming. It was cheerful but subdued in its cheer, graceful and elegant.
A little farther on, they found the piano, a beautiful white grand piano, its polished surface reflecting an azure glow. That glow came the man seated at the piano, playing the melody, a man who was decidedly…
Different.
His skin, hair, clothes, every part of him had an azure glow. And he didn’t seem entirely substantial, even though he could press down the piano keys. He was at all times at least slightly translucent, and there were times when parts of him just vanished — a chunk out of his cheek, or the ends of his bangs, or one of his fingers. It wasn’t a gruesome vanishing, though; these were no gaping wounds. It was more like he was a construct of magical light, a sort of projection rather than a physical being — and some of those parts of him were like electric lights switching on and off, here and then gone and then here again. All around him floated tiny motes of azure light. At close inspection, these motes could be made out as tiny cubes of azure light, dancing in the air, disappearing and reappearing as they saw fit.
Once one got past the translucent, flickering light-show of the man’s appearance and studied his features themselves, they saw that here, too, he couldn’t be easily defined. He appeared old, then young, then somewhere in-between. He had a beard, then was clean-shaven. His hair was long, then short, then very long and braided, and then he was almost completely bald. He wore a hat — sometimes, and it wasn’t always the same hat. His clothes stayed largely the same aside from the hat. He wore a very long coat with long, voluminous sleeves, bedecked with tassels and metallic ornamentation. A glittering azure ring was on his left index finger.
The everchanging man of light finished the song and sat back, letting the final note hang in the air. Slowly he turned to the newcomers, regarding them with a kind smile. “Welcome to the Library, travelers,” he said. His voice constantly changed, too — bass then baritone then tenor, old then young, clear then a bit raspy. But the emotion of his everchanging voice remained constant: inviting, inquisitive, patient. “It is good to see old friends again, Elliot, Ninian, Tobias, Alice. Dear Chesh. And I am pleased to make the acquaintance of new arrivals. Sheena Tsukuyomi of Taiyoushi, and Guinevere, the Promised Queen, if I am not mistaken.”
“You —!” Guinevere started, stiffening. “How?”
“To know is my sacred duty,” the Librarian said. “And you are not among foes, Promised Queen. You need not be on your guard.”
Tobias was taken aback by a different detail: Sheena’s family name. He felt as if he’d heard it before, as if it were important. If only he could remember…
“Elliot has already hinted at one of your reasons for coming,” the Librarian said. “But he wished to wait until all were present to show what he wishes deciphered.”
“Here you go,” Elliot said, handing over the black paper with the black butterfly. He’d drawn on it the hooked Z where it appeared when heat was applied to the page. “We know it’s a symbol of a very dangerous criminal organization. But we know precious little else. They’ve sponsored Auge Gerecht, among other dangerous groups.”
“Auge Gerecht,” the Librarian murmured. “A farcical name. Justice is blind.” He reached out and took the paper from Elliot, and even though he was a man of light, seemingly insubstantial, just like he’d been playing the piano earlier, he was able to hold this paper like he was a physical being. “You know not a name for this mysterious organization?”
“No,” Elliot said.
“I see,” the Librarian said. As he studied the paper, glasses appeared on his face, and the lenses of those glasses glowed with tiny script, constantly changing, as if they were bringing text from numerous writings straight to the Librarian’s eyes. After a few moments, the writing vanished, and the glasses, too, and the Librarian looked up. “You have a name, now,” he said. “The criminal organization goes by the name Zweitracht.”
——
Roland and his companions chose a smaller town on the outskirts of the Mount Fuarain region, rather than the main city at the mountain, because they wished to avoid the attention that would bring. Out here, word hadn’t yet spread of Roland the “conquering Summoner,” which was a blessing. They didn’t need extra attention.
They needed place to question their captive. To ask the questions they were all burning to know the answers to.
They checked into an inn, and when questions were asked regarding their bound captive, listless but beginning to stir, Tsubasa surprised everyone by pulling out a Cyril Republic Special Investigation Unit badge from her pocket and flashing it at the innkeeper.
“Special police business,” she said.
That got them through any door in their way. They set themselves up in a multi-bedroom suite, where they tied their captive to a chair in the bedroom most distant from the suite’s door, with only a small window — too small to escape through.
“I thought you weren’t a detective,” Erika said. “Just the rest of your family.”
“I’m not,” Tsubasa said with a mischievous grin. “The badge is my mom’s. She’s always misplacing hers. It’s okay, they’ll have issued her a replacement ages ago. And I’m kind of an honorary member of the SIU, so it’s fine.”
“It feels illegal,” Enrique said.
“Well it’s a good thing my youngest brother’s an excellent defense attorney, then,” Tsubasa said. “Anyway. Let’s see if this guy feels like talking yet.”
“Let’s start by removing his mask,” Roland said. He stepped forward and grasped the full face mask with both hands, its visage that of some grotesque monster of fable. It was a thick, solid construction, like ceramic, but less brittle. There was a faint tingle in his fingers —the hum of magic. He closed his eyes and hummed softly, and with a relief heard the notes come out cleanly. Eilidh’s interference was ended. With that short melody, he learned the nature of the magics in the mask — just a simple adherence crafting, for keeping the mask on the wearer’s face and allowing it to be removed easily when needed. With a slight tug, Roland pulled off the mask, revealing the wearer’s face.
He was a man in his mid-thirties. Maybe not any older than Roland, but Roland looked quite young for his age, and he and this man looked nothing alike. The man had a squarish face, with dark stubble along his jawline, a thick nose, and bushy eyebrows. His dark hair was cropped short.
One strange detail — as Roland pulled back the man’s hood, he noticed that hooked over his right ear was a silver ear ornament, dangling a small white feather.
Just like what the twins wore.
Tsubasa poked the man in the forehead. “Hey,” she said. “You’re awake, aren’t you? Stop pretending.”
The man’s eyes opened right away. They were a startling electric blue, not all that different from Eagle Mask’s. He regarded them all with a cold glare, but said nothing. He strained very briefly against his bonds, then gave up.
“Well?” Tsubasa asked, folding her arms. “You got a name?”
“No names,” the man said. Roland had expected a gruff, raspy voice by the look of the man, but his voice was a clear tenor, rather beautiful. He must be an excellent singer.
“Oh, come on,” Tsubasa said, rolling her eyes. “Of course you have a name.”
“We abandoned our names when we took up our masks,” the man said.
“Okay, well how do you tell each other apart, aside from your leaders?” Tsubasa asked, taking the mask from Roland and looking it over. “This is a mass-produced copy of so many others. You all look the same when you’re masked up.”
“We know each other,” the man said. He was surprisingly calm, considering his situation.
“Fine, fine,” Tsubasa said. “You guys, you Masks — does your organization have a name? I’m getting sick of calling you ‘the Masks,’ and I bet you don’t like it, either.”
The man hesitated, eyeing Tsubasa cautiously. His gaze flickered to the twins, and there was something similar to Eagle Masks’ there, a brief recognition. But then he looked back at Tsubasa. “We are called Reunion,” he said.
“Reunion,” Tsubasa said. “All right, sure. Got a reason for the name?”
The man regarded her dispassionately. “It is what we seek,” he said. His eyes went back to the twins for a moment — was he expecting them to react in some way? “To say more would be to break my oath.”
“So there are oaths involved,” Tsubasa said, nodding. “Good to know. How about this: why were you working with Eilidh? What’s she got to do with Reunion?”
The man looked to Muirrach, who said nothing, then looked back at Tsubasa. “She has nothing to do with us,” he said.
“Aww, trying to be clever,” Tsubasa said. She pulled up a chair and sat backwards on it across from the man, draping her arms over the back of her chair. “So her organization does, then? Whoever she works for, that’s who’s with you. They’re your… employers? Partners?” She studied the man’s face as she raised possibilities. “Overseers? Sponsors? Clie— ah, sponsors.” She’d seen something in the man’s eyes, but Roland hadn’t noticed a change at all. “All right, then. What are they called, huh? Who’s sponsoring Reunion?”
“The Black Butterfly,” the man said.
Tsubasa rolled her eyes. “That’s their symbol,” she said. “But they have a real name, right?”
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s it to you?” he asked.
“You can’t guess?” Tsubasa asked, cocking her head to the side. “Come on. Look at your position. You’re not going anywhere worthwhile unless we let you. And we just want some answers. I’m even playing nice about it. What’s their name, huh?”
The man hesitated. But, finally, he let out a sigh. “They call themselves Zweitracht.”
——
“Zweitracht?” Tobias asked.
Ninian sang, filling the Long Room with beauty, but also sorrow. The Librarian nodded. “It is an ancient word meaning ‘discord’,” he said. Tobias heard a small gasp, and looked aside. Alice’s face was white, her eyes wide. “There are records of Zweitracht as a philosophy, an ideal,” the Librarian continued. “It is curious that they are now an organized group. The black butterfly with this sigil has always been the symbol of that philosophy.”
“Why a butterfly?” Guinevere asked.
“The black butterfly is a harbinger of change,” Sheena said. “At least it is in Haruo.”
The Librarian nodded. “In this case, an omen,” he said.
“But why would we see it inside the Mirror?” Guinevere asked. “Was that also tied back to this Zweitracht? Why was it watching us?”
“I am not privy to what transpired within the Mirror,” the Librarian said. “Perhaps you can get me up to speed.”
Tobias, Guinevere, and Sheena told the tale of the Mirror. Alice recovered her composure, adding some details towards the end. But she was still shaken, all by that one word.
“This is conjecture,” the Librarian said, “but your experience suggests that Zweitracht — the organization — has taken an interest in your activities. Such an interest, in fact, that they sought to observe your experiences within the Mirror. To what end, I cannot be certain. And how is another matter entirely. To penetrate the veil of the Mirror without the Mirror’s knowledge should not be possible.”
“Imagination transcends the possible,” Chesh said, doing a little flip.
“What can we do to track down this organization?” Sheena asked. “How do we put an end to their schemes?”
“What do they even want?” Tobias asked. “ ‘Discord’ is too vague.”
“But it sums up their ideals quite succinctly,” the Librarian said. “It is through discord that they believe all their goals can be realized. Let me explain.”
——
“Zweitracht?” Tsubasa asked sharply. She looked shaken.
“Then you know of them, too,” Muirrach said gravely.
Tsubasa’s gaze snapped to him. “You… knew?” she asked, staring.
“Wait, what’s Zweitracht?” Erika asked. “Tsubasa, what’s wrong?”
“My Teacher,” Tsubasa said softly. “He…” She shook her head. “Sorry, just… give me a second.” She took a deep breath, let it out, and then pointedly turned from their captive to face the others. “When I turned sixteen, on the day that I was set to begin my training journey, my Teacher was supposed to take me. It’s customary for the student to have their Teacher guide them on the journey. It’s… not at all normal to undertake the Tsubamedo training journey alone, like I have. But that day… he told me what he truly believed. He told me about Zweitracht, and the ideals that he’d been captivated by: ‘Only discord will break the chains of harmony that bind the people’s enslaved hearts.’ ”
“Discord?” Roland asked. “ ‘The Songbird sang the Hymn of Discord, and Fractured the world forevermore.’ ”
“Yeah,” Tsubasa said. “The same evil that ruined the world is what they believe will set people ‘free.’ And my Teacher… he asked me to join him.” She clenched her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “I couldn’t believe what he was saying. I told him it was wrong. I pleaded with him to leave them. He refused. So I… I challenged him to a duel. That’s how arguments that fail with words are resolved in Tsubamedo. And I…” Her voice trembled, faltered, and she shook her head. “I failed,” she finally said in a tiny voice. “Of course I did. I was sixteen. Really good for my age, but nowhere close to the greatest master the Tsubamedo School had ever seen. I never stood a chance. But he hadn’t demanded any conditions of me if I were to lose. So I was free to do as I wanted. But he said… ‘Find me again when you are stronger. If you can defeat me then, I will leave Zweitracht and fight them by your side.’ ”
Erika gasped. “Your wish!” she said.
“Yeah,” Tsubasa said bitterly. “To be the greatest of the Tsubamedo School… it really is my wish. I know… I’m sure Elysia, I’m sure a wish, can’t actually make me skilled enough to defeat my Teacher. That’s the whole point. I have to get there on my own merits. But…” She shook her head, and went silent.
“And Eilidh joined their ranks as well,” Roland said, hardly believing it as he looked to Muirrach.
Muirrach sighed heavily. “Alystair, Eilidh, and I…” he said, “we debated the philosophy of Zweitracht extensively in our youth. Because Eilidh… she found it appealing. The idea that discord is freedom, that harmony is a societal construct that enslaves our hearts in rules and restrictions… she wasn’t entirely beholden to it, at first. But she thought it worth exploring, worth considering. I argued staunchly against such ideals. The rush for absolute freedom is as corruptive as absolute power, leading to self-enslavement. Alystair… he was such an effective mediator. He could speak to both sides, offer counterpoints to any argument, to be calm and patient no matter what. And yet through it all, he never failed to shine a light on the truth, to elegantly reveal which ideal was truly right. I… never had that gift.” Muirrach’s eyes glistened with sorrow. “When he was gone, we lost a valuable voice of reason for Eilidh. But then… she may have been convinced long before that. I don’t know. I still don’t know what it is she truly desires. What it is that possessed her to side with them.”
“So the organization seeks to spread discord,” Enrique said, “believing that it will bring people freedom. And they… they sponsor a group like Reunion, that goes around corrupting the use of symphonic crystals, that wants to kidnap us for reasons we still don’t understand.” He looked at their captive, and everyone else followed his gaze.
“Well?” Tsubasa asked, collecting herself. “What’s the connection? And more than that, why are you so keen on taking the twins? What do you intend for them?”
The man smirked, chuckling softly. “They haven’t told you?” he asked.
“Told them what?” Erika asked, sounding just as confused as anyone else.
“Don’t screw with us,” Tsubasa said. “Answer the question.”
“They’re the true prize,” the man said, eyeing Erika in particular. “We thought their parents would show us the way. But the truth is hidden in their children.”
“What do you know about our parents?” Enrique asked, shooting to his feet.
The man opened his mouth to speak — but then a bell chimed. Two chimes, at once, but discordant with each other. Roland winced, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them…
The man tied to the chair was dead. Slumped in his seat, lifeless eyes gazing emptily at the floor, blood trickling from his ears.
Erika gasped, covering her mouth. Tsubasa shot to her feet, tonfas in her hands.
“Oh it’s so cute when they think they can fight,” said a voice. Roland wheeled around.
On the far side of the room, beneath the too-small window, stood a girl. She couldn’t be more than ten years old, with long blond curls and big, inquisitive blue eyes. She wore a simple black dress, and had a black barrette in her hair.
Black, in the shape of a butterfly.
“Who are you?” Tsubasa asked. “Did you… did you kill him?”
The girl giggled. “Yes, that was me,” she said. “He wasn’t about to say anything important. I just didn’t like his voice. And my appointment was with you, not him.”
“Us?” Roland asked. “What do you want with us?”
“You’re determined to protect the twins,” the girl said, smiling sweetly. “And I can understand why. Quite potent, what their parents made them. Artificial keys to Elysia. Though good luck figuring out how to use them.”
“Use them?” Roland asked “They’re children, not tools!”
The girl giggled. “They’re little mockingbirds, playing at making real music. They’re adorable. And unnecessary. Really quite tiresome, if I’m being honest. And here you are protecting them. Everything will go so much more smoothly if you are lost.”
The girl raised her hand, and snapped her fingers. But what sounded wasn’t a snap. It was another discordant chiming. Roland winced, then staggered. The world was spinning. His vision blurred, until all was a hazy grey around him. The chime left his ears ringing, and he clutched at his head, fighting to clear it, but nothing made sense.
He fell.
Where he landed was not the floor of the bedroom. It was soft, loamy ground, sparse with grass. A grey haze hung over everything. Roland pushed himself to his feet, whipping around. Where was everyone?
“Roland!” Tsubasa cried. Roland saw her, just barely, through the mists. She was waving with one of her tonfas. Roland ran over to her, and found her with the twins, who both looked shaken. “Where did that kid send us?” Tsubasa asked.
Muirrach came up to them, his expression grim. “Aîrchal,” he said. “Land of the Lost.”
——
The Librarian disclosed all he knew about Zweitracht’s philosophy about Discord and freedom, and analyzed the pattern of actions the organization had taken, giving them a possible lead to their base of operations. Guinevere was interested in the conversation, but it was where they went next that truly grasped her attention.
With the immediate questions answered, they moved on to their greater goals: Elysia.
“You have new clues for me?” the Librarian asked, regarding Tobias with curiosity.
“I had a curious conversation with Vesper Brahe,” Tobias said.
“The famed astronomer and engineer?” Alice asked, eyes wide. “You’ve walked in some elite circles.”
“It was a chance meeting,” Tobias said, “and Maestro Brahe is… more eccentric than her reputation suggests. She doesn’t walk in the circles you’d expect. Anyway, she spoke of the Cúplach, the twin moons in Wonderia’s Sky-Sphere, and a strange phenomenon she’s observed at their intersection with her Helioscope. Her theories were quite striking. She allowed me a copy of her notes.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a leatherbound packet with numerous sheets of paper. He handed it to the Librarian, and the Librarian looked over it for some time.
“A shadow at the Twins’ intersection,” he murmured, “appearing like a phantom of the door to Elysia. And a shower of stars falling from that shadow to earth. Very suggestive.”
“And she found puzzling machinery where those stars fell,” Tobias said. “Technology the likes of which she’s never seen before. It took her time to decipher their workings — what still was working — but what she found…”
“They speak of Elysia,” the Librarian said. “And the forging of a pair of keys to open the door.”
“Hold on a moment,” Guinevere said. “A pair of keys? But Excalibur is the key to Elysia! What’s the point of all this? If you want to open the door to Elysia, find the Promised King!”
“Unfortunately, the Promised King has disappeared,” the Librarian said. “So we seek other paths to Elysia.”
“You know everything,” Guinevere said, gripped by a sudden desperate hope. “Surely you know where Artorius…”
“I cannot say,” the Librarian said.
“Meaning what, exactly?” Guinevere asked, glaring daggers at him. “That you do not know? Or that you know, but refuse to? Speak plainly!”
“If he cannot tell us,” Sheena said calmly, “then he cannot tell us. Letting rage rule will not grant the answers we seek.”
A Queen is not ruled by her emotions.
Guinevere took a deep, steadying breath. “If all we seek is a key to Elysia,” she said, “then Artorius holds the key. Why chase this other key?”
“How would we go about finding him?” Sheena asked.
“He’s convinced everyone that he died ten years ago,” Alice said. “It seems to me he doesn’t want to be found — and that he’s very good at getting what he wants.”
Yes, he is.
Guinevere bowed her head. Artorius lived in her heart as a smile, a glow like sunlight. But in all his good cheer, his gentle optimism, and his ceaseless generosity… he’d always had an uncanny ability to get his way. He never forced it. He had a personality that made others want to help him, but also a keen mind. Every clever little plan of his had always come through, one way or another.
The Librarian cannot say where you are. Maybe he knows, and chooses not to say. Maybe you convinced him to keep you a secret. Or maybe you’ve been able to hide yourself even from his sight.
You hold the key to Elysia. We had a wish we shared. But now…
Why don’t you want me to find you?
She shook her head. “These other keys are also tied with information on how to reach Elysia, yes?” she asked. “Then we should seek them out. We must reach Elysia, no matter what. But along our journey, we should keep our eyes open for signs of Artorius. The true key will be preferable to any other.”
“The Maestro’s findings do indeed hold answers to Elysia’s location,” the Librarian said. “When coupled with all the clues Tobias had brought me previously, and the work I’ve done analyzing their connections and what they might mean, I find the foundation of a lighthouse, a beacon pointing the way to lost Elysia.”
“You know where we must go?” Alice asked, breathless with anticipation. All of them went suddenly very silent, very still, tension gathering as they hung on the Librarian’s words.
“I have a compelling starting point,” the Librarian said. “It is widely believed that all of the Elysians sealed themselves away in Elysia when it vanished from the world. But Tobias’ previous discoveries — and now Maestro Brahe’s findings — are compelling evidence that a group of Elysians were not sealed away with their home. Whether they left of their own free will and couldn’t find the way back home, or were forced out, we do not know. But their ancient knowledge points the way to the land of wishes all of you seek.” He waved his hand, and a map of light appeared in the air before them — a map of Wonderia. “Here,” he said, pointing to a spot on the map, where a beacon of light glowed brighter at his touch, “there is an intersection.”
“An intersection?” Sheena asked.
“A point where two realms are linked most strongly,” the Librarian said. He waved his hand, and another map appeared, overlaid over the first. It was harder to tell exactly what it was when overlaid atop another map, but Tobias soon picked out a few key landmarks, and realized this was a map of Albia. “Here. The intersection. To Wonderia, and to Albia, you must go. But you will not go with only that clue to guide you.” The Librarian waved his hands, and the maps vanished. “I shall spend some time throughout the Library, compiling information and cross-referencing various texts, accounts, and artifacts, to help give you the most comprehensive guidebook possible with our current knowledge. The day grows late — you should spend the night here, and perhaps tomorrow, depending on how long this process takes. Make yourselves at home.” He smiled warmly. “There is no safer place in all the realms. Food can always be found in abundance in each floor’s dining hall. Each floor also has ample bathing facilities, and guest rooms in near-limitless varieties to suit all needs and preferences.”
“Beds of all sizes!” Alice said, beaming. “Mountains of pillows! Oh, it’s always so wonderful staying here. And you can always find the way. Guin, Sheena, come on! I’ll show you how to bring up the directory, so you don’t get lost. Then we can all explore to our heart’s content!”
And so, with the promise of a real, hopeful path to Elysia, the group dispersed.
——
“You haven’t told her,” Elliot said flatly. He’d taken Tobias aside to talk, and with Ninian secured themselves in a distant reading room for privacy. “Even though you’re traveling with her.”
“What would be the point?” Tobias asked. The question came out more sharply than he’d intended — but he’d been dreading this exact conversation ever since he’d reunited with Elliot. And he’d been hoping Elliot would be kind enough not to go there. Tobias sighed. “I’m not who I was.”
“You’re always you,” Elliot said, smiling that warm, gentle smile of his. “We all change. But the core of who we are never really changes.”
Ninian sang, her song compelling, inviting, very nearly convincing. Tobias turned away, shook his head. “You make it sound so easy,” he muttered. Elliot started to say something, and Tobias held up a hand. “Can we talk about something else? We know our enemy now, better than we ever have. And we have a real, tangible lead on Elysia. Not just guesswork, not just vague hopes and clues. Somewhere to go, somewhere with answers! And the Librarian will send us off with even more.”
“So Alice sees her wish fulfilled,” Elliot said, and he smiled. “And what about your wish?”
“You know I don’t have one,” Tobias said. “All I desire for myself are things I can and should accomplish with my own hands. A wish shouldn’t solve my problems for me.” But he narrowed his eyes, seeing that Elliot was still smiling. “What?”
“Everyone has a wish,” Elliot said. “And you’ve sought Elysia more fervently than some of the most ardent seekers.”
“I have my own reasons,” Tobias said, glaring at Elliot. How many times had they discussed this? And still Elliot presumed Tobias had other motives, other ideals than what he’d stated so plainly in the past.
“I don’t presume anything ulterior from you,” Elliot said, holding up his hands innocently. “I just think perhaps you haven’t yet come to understand yourself as well as you believe.”
Tobias rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.” He turned to go, but then Ninian sang. Truth, always truth, only ever truth when it came from her — and it was an aching, challenging truth to face. “I know,” Tobias said, bowing his head. “Even so… not yet. It… wouldn’t be fair to her.” Elliot started to say something, and Tobias held up a hand. “Can we just enjoy this night? Can we allow ourselves to relax? After all that’s happened, I…” And he let out a sudden, heavy sigh.
“Of course we can relax,” Elliot said. Smiling — always so quick to a smile, that one. He clapped Tobias on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s rejoin the others.”
“They’ve all split up,” Tobias said.
“I know,” Elliot said. “But the Library has a way of bringing people together.”
They did find the others, all together, quite quickly. At the end of the Long Room was a spacious reading lounge, with three circles of sofas and comfy armchairs. In one of those circles sat Alice, Guinevere, and Sheena, each with a book to read. Guinevere sat at one edge of a couch, her legs tucked under her, Ava curled up beside her, her head draped over Guinevere’s lap. Sheena sat on the other side of that couch, and Akko was perched on her shoulder, looking as if he was reading Sheena’s book just as intently as she was. Alice, meanwhile, sat on the couch across from them, her legs tucked under her, a pillow in her lap, her book set atop it.
Flynn hopped up next to Alice immediately, and Tobias sat on the other side of Flynn, who happily lay between them. Elliot and Ninian sat on a third couch, Hector curling up between them, trying to nestle in as close and cozy as he could to Elliot. No words were shared between them. There was a joy, sitting here in silence together, reading in comfortable seats, enjoying a quiet, cozy companionship.
——
Deep below the Long Room, and below several more levels, was the deepest level of the Library.
It was a circular chamber, one mile in diameter, made up of three floors that ringed a central shaft which housed a massive golden apparatus, a series of floating metallic rings in complex configurations orbiting a symphonic crystal as big as a house, its deep blue glow bathing the entire chamber in a rippling light that made it feel like one was beneath the surface of the ocean.
Called the Vault, this lowest level of the Library was named after the Symphonic Vaults that birthed the symphonic crystals that were so vital to the energy and technology of the world — and more, so much more than people had yet realized.
The Vault’s three floors were organized by subject matter. The first and highest floor was dedicated to crystals of all types, their history, their uses, crystal theory, application theory, and so on. The second, middle floor was dedicated to ancient history — everything anyone had discovered, recorded, or theorized about the world before the Fracturing. And the third, lowest floor was dedicated to original copies of all sacred texts — every Song of the Canticos, ancillary Songs that individual Cantors had sung, and various other writings from the prophets, among many other things. Here was a wealth of knowledge that still remained not fully deciphered or understood.
And here, on the lowest floor, was where the Librarian trod, making new inferences from ancient texts based on the new information that Tobias’ travels had helped bring to light. As he compiled data, he sent it through the conduits throughout the Library to construct the “guidebook” he had promised his guests.
To reach Elysia, and open the door…
Yes, I do believe it is right for them to be the ones to do it. At long last, to fix what was broken…
The Librarian was near the edge of the third floor’s railing, so he turned out and looked up, through the central shaft, above the crystal apparatus.
The ceiling was cracked. Numerous scars ran across its surface, gouges in once polished marble. Signs remained of what it was. What it was missing.
“Some things, only a wish can restore,” the Librarian murmured. He went back to his texts, but then paused. A sensation — a presence, here in the Vault. One he had not detected until this very moment. Which should be…
He turned around, and found himself face-to-face with a young girl.
…impossible.
“I couldn’t agree more,” the girl said, smiling sweetly.
Blonde hair, blue eyes… but…
“You are not Alice,” the Librarian said, gazing upon the girl in the black dress who, by all appearances, was Alice, his guest who was seated high above in the Long Room, reading with her friends.
“Very perceptive,” Not-Alice said, smiling. “But I should expect no less from the Librarian. My name is Lacie.”
“Lacie,” the Librarian murmured. Glasses appeared on his face, and text swiftly scrolled across the lenses and then vanished. “I do not know of you. You are, perhaps… Alice’s twin?”
Lacie giggled. “Something like that,” she said.
The Librarian regarded the girl for a moment, studying her in all the methods he had available to him. “You are not here,” he said.
“I’m here in spirit,” Lacie said. “Sometimes that’s all a girl needs, isn’t it? And speaking of needs…” She took a step closer to the Librarian, so that she was close enough to reach out and touch him. Her smile deepened, and there was something dangerous in her eyes. “You’re in need of a good Fracturing.” She reached up, and tapped the Librarian right between his eyes.
There was a chime, a discordant pair of tones. The Librarian shuddered. All of his systems were telling him to run, to move, to escape, but he could not. He shuddered again, and then…
Crack!
A painful, sharp sound, like the earth being split in two. And the Librarian watched as his own vision split. He could see two Lacies, side by side, and they were wider apart from each other by the minute, and then his view of the second Lacie slid too low, and then slipped away.
“That’s better,” Lacie said, giggling. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”
The first Arc comes to a close. But the story continues in Arc II…