[The Library] The Dusty Shadows (Eridanus)

[Zandelia]

32nd Fall, AV 511 – Night

Zandelia strode the streets of Sunberth, her presence most likely well noted despite her all but invisible form, Shadowsilk Robes being the closest she could yet afford to living in the shadows. However, she was not troubled by the majority of vagabonds, ragamuffins and psychotics that idly meandered their way through the alleys and buildings of her beloved city. She was entering a sanctum of villainy that few of the gangs even entered unless deemed absolutely necessary – Stumble Alley. Oh, she was sure they collected ‘taxes’ and that their eyes and ears were squirreled very firmly into the very woodwork of the buildings here, but she knew all too well that they had long ago given up trying to control Stumble Alley. After all it was fundamentally impossible to control something that couldn’t even be made to be still. Its borders shifted and the area it was deemed part of grew and shrunk in size regularly. Not to mention the fact that the people had a tendency to fight back to the last drop of blood, a reputation for indombitable will in itself.

And here I am, unharmed and facing no trouble at all. If I weren’t aware that this area of Stumble Alley was of no interest at all I would feel rather special she thought to herself as she turned another sharp corner and paced her way to the end of yet another small side street, gazing about out of her hood to gain her bearing once more.

It was strange that for a building so close to her place of employment, The Establishment, she still had considerable difficulty finding the damned thing. It was almost as if, she thought, the city of Sunberth itself was so ashamed of its existence that it tried to hide it behind other buildings. Many stated that it was relatively easy to get to but she was beginning to think that the way they had told her those words with straight faces made them deserving of a bloody medal, followed very swiftly with a punch to the jaw. Her path had taken her in a veritable spiral she reckoned, always getting closer to its centre but not quite getting there. It was only as she turned another left, hope beginning to fade now as to her quest, that she finally breached a clearing of alleys and stepped out into the open – the building directly in front of her.

“Sunberth’s only library,” she uttered out loud to no one in particular, her surroundings deserted, “and it has seen far better days too” she finished as her single green orb took in its shabby and ramshackle appearance, sandwiched as it was between slightly grander buildings.

She padded onwards, her destination now its threshold, and passed through it with only a little tugging and shoving of the rusty hinged doors. It was when she slammed them shut and felt the sound almost reverberate throughout the absolute silence within that she felt the first twinge of embarrassment experienced in years. Looking around to see if anyone was around to see her enter she saw nothing and merely shrugged before pulling back her hood and gazing around the interior. It was dusty, almost criminally so, and the very air seemed to be made of dried parchment. It brought a tickling to the back of her throat and gave the sensation she was about to sneeze at any moment – unknowing that this was a universal character of all libraries in the universe itself. She shambled forwards through the maze of books, piled here and there in some cases but for the most part upon shelves that seemed to groan with their weight, hinting at giving way at any minute. Her fingers trailed their spines as her eye strove to understand the words written upon them. It was hard, devilishly so. She had had no reading training in any formal sense – her meagre knowledge self-taught and taken from fragments of memories of better times.

“What secrets do you hide? What knowledge lies within your cracked pages” she whispered to her new companions, trying to figure a way to find her desires and assimilate them properly.

It was only as she case out of the brief reverie she had been pushed into that she became aware of another figure close to her, perhaps only a handful of feet behind her. The back of her neck prickled and her ears caught the shuffle of leather upon floorboard. Whirling she held a book in hand, ready to throw it and flee if necessary – her instincts all too powerful after years of drudgery in the ‘Berth. It was man, she noticed, though there was something about him that tried to niggle at her brain, ignored as it operated of its own volition.

“Don’t you petching dare” the words came out, well before she could stop them as she began to notice the startled expression upon his face and the characteristics that marked him as decidedly strange indeed.

[Eridanus]

Eridanus sat cross-legged and eyes closed, focusing his mind from the myriad of thoughts that usually crowded his hyper-active head while he breathed slowly and steadily. In front of him was a little gem he found, a book on meditative techniques. It listed the whole range of different meditative techniques one can use to induce a calm state on oneself, and even included a possible list of applications of it, and Eri would admit that some of them were quite obscure, not to mention a few of them being quite naughty. The page was open at the one that he was trying now, which was to integrate certain positions while maintaining a clear mind. This would apparently help to improve blood circulation which would 'activate' the mind while meditating, or so claimed the book. He had already tried several of weird stretching positions, his mind usually thinking of when he could recover from the aching pain the position put him in, and so he decided to just stop after a while and assume the position that he could do more comfortably, which was the very first step outlined in that technique - the basic cross legged sitting position. As he maintained an stable breathing pace, he focused deep within himself and found himself looking at a mental map of the djed streams that he slowly memorized and 'plotted' in his mental map of his astral body whenever he got more familiar with certain parts of his body. He found that the 'emptier' his mind gets, the easier and faster he could call up this mental map of his djed streams, and so it was the best way to test meditative techniques. Drawing up the pulsing raw energy within him, he gently directed the rivers of energy upwards to his upper torso, and slowly coaxed the djed streams to empower his upper half. His pulse quickened as his body assumed that this use of Flux meant a combat situation, and he forced his breathing to remain slow, ignoring any errant thoughts that popped up in his mind. The only thought in his mind was the sound of his breathing and the view of his astral body and he intended to keep it that way. His body calmed down when it realized it wasn't in a life and death situation, helped greatly by Eri's determined meditative attempts, and he gently felt his arms and shoulders feeling stronger, as if he suddenly grew bulging muscles ripping out of his clothes. Nothing was further than the truth, and this sense of power usually came with the workings of Flux. It was his duty to get used to these kind of feelings to prevent over-estimating his body in terms of both stamina and strength, and this was the perfect time to stretch or discover his limits. When enough strength was diverted upwards, instead of dissipating the streams in his body and willing it to return to the status quo, he decided to do it another way. Just before the last bit of djed trickled upward, he began opposing the flow, causing the streams to then gently decrease its flowing speed upwards, gradually stopping, then slowly increasing its speed in the opposite direction. It was like running in one way, slowing down and turning in the opposite direction. That was Eri's attempt but of course his idea was to make it more seamless and graceful, though his current attempt was more like a lame, one-legged donkey trying to do the same. He concentrated on redirecting his astral energy downwards, and psychologically speaking he could 'feel' his arms deflating in size, which was probably the physical sensation his body used to express the loss of supernatural strength in that part, and accordingly he was filled with a sudden desire to start running and jumping from roof-top to roof-top. No doubt that he done that before, sometimes for fun but usually while he had to make certain short-cuts while delivering missives for Master Tua, but this time he relied on his serene state to quell these emotions, and true enough after a few chimes the desire of hyper-activity began to calm down and subside. Eri continued directing the flux around in his body, his mind closed off to the world, noticing nothing but himself and the astral body within, until he heard a loud slam. Granted, this deep into this reverie normal footsteps would not wake him, but this was an obscenely quiet library as he was the only person there, and at night one could hear a single pin drop. This slamming of the old once-grand doors of Sunberth's only library was followed by several footsteps, and he immediately began the process of dissipating his djed to normalcy, shutting down his mental image of his astral form and opening his eyes, his vision adjusting again to the dimmed lighting. He stood up slowly, noting that his limbs were slightly sore from the unorthodox stretching positions he tried earlier and he patted the floor beside him to find his two long swords that he had removed from his back before he entered his trance-like state. They were still in their leather sheaths that he had unstrapped from the back of his attire and he used one hand to grab both of them together at the middle like two sticks, crouching low as if he was trying to sneak up on someone and he slowly began to inch forward, taking care to make as little noise as he could. He could not make out the features of this new figure for he was trying to creep up on it from behind, as well as his eyes still adjusting to the dimmed lighting for he had kept his eyes closed for almost a bell after he abandoned the more acrobatic techniques for the cross-legged sitting position. A boot shuffled on the floor and he cursed his lack of dexterity in trying to sneak up on people, causing the observant stranger to suddenly grab a nearby book and spun around to face him, warning him to not do whatever it thought he was going to do. Or she thought, for the first thing he noticed was the lack of visible activity in her other eye, while the only one working was expressing its full display of emotions, of curiosity, of determination, and of other things that he could not read in that instant. At least the two swords were still in their sheaths, and the Ethaefal raised both of his hands in the air, one of them still grasping on the two sheathed blades that made him look like holding stupidly oversized chopsticks. "No need to get all violent, m'lady. I am merely a humble occupant of this esteemed depository of knowledge, and of course an avid pursuer of its contents", the Ethaefal was normally not this verbose, and in his mortal form would never be caught dead talking like that. However, this was his usual way of addressing new people and he learned that it was the most neutral form of speaking that would avoid offending the myriad of cultures and races around the continent. Not to mention his celestial form liked to add verbal flair from its memory of living amongst the gods, though this was a very poor way of representing the actual celestial tongue which Ethaefals like him could only recall vaguely but never replicate using any form of mortal language.

[Zandelia]

As the situation revealed itself to Zandelia she felt herself relaxing a little, returning somewhat to her normal and healthily paranoid self. There were some who might say that there was no such thing as being healthily paranoid, however she was willing to wager that those who stated as much had never lived long in Sunberth – if at all. It was a necessity to hold a wary outlook in life, as long as one wished to keep their life. It may have made her seem like a strange woman to the man a few feet from her, it may even have made him consider the possibility that she was insane, however she could not bring herself to care overly much. She felt no shame for her actions and, as if to affirm that fact to the stranger, she merely let the book fall to her side slowly. She did not let it go for some time as she gazed upon the man’s form, her emerald green orb taking in the one whom would have tried to take her unawares.

The real question is why? And why the hell is he here? No one ever comes to this place apart from that bloody bounty hunter woman, or so they say at any rate she mused to herself, putting the book gently back into its place upon the shelf as she turned, still very much keeping her attention upon the interloper.

“Why the petching hell are you talking like that?” she asked the man, buying time to study him further to try and fully get the measure of him in case things turned well and truly sour, “it makes you sound like one of those bastards from the old stories. All fancies and airs. Talk common and we can have a little chat but I can’t be bothered to decipher long words this day” she finished as her sense of sight took note of something I had not managed to previously comprehend.

The man was tall, taller than Zandelia by a good few inches at least. That in itself was fairly normal, her height only just above average for a woman and below the average for a man of most lands. His hair was a dark colour, almost as if it were the colour of the night sky itself, cropped shorter than most men’s hair she had seen. Still, even that was not particularly unusual. No, what came as a shock to her were the horns protruding from his head in curled form, framing his face and giving him a very un-natural aura. She kept her mouth from dropping open just barely, instead fixating her eye upon at first one, and then the other, horn until she had had her fill of gazing upon them. She brought her gaze back to his eyes then, looking into their depths and trying to sense if there was a threat there to be found. Her situation was now untenable to her, she imagined, stuck in between tall bookcases in an enclosed place, with a species of man she had never seen before let alone knew how to react to.

Perhaps he is from the tales, a demon of ages gone by come to take me back to days of terrible torture. But I doubt it. What in the name of Akajia is he?! she thought to herself as she tried to feel out the path forwards that held least danger.

“I see you have horns my shadowy friend. I hope that doesn’t mean you’re here to eat me as I won’t make it easy. So, my first question is what the shyke are you? You look like a man, but I damned well never have heard of horned men” she spoke out loud, licking her lips and letting her hands stray towards her tonfa almost casually, a precaution against the unknown.

She saw now, too, that he held weapons in his hands and she took up a defensive stance as she shifted her feet in the dust, purposefully keeping her movements slow and measured in order to send out the message that she was no easy prey for some ghoul or hazardous creature. She saw no reason to make the man’s life easier, if he was even a man in the truest sense of the word. He was a mystery to her and, though she was loathe to admit it even to herself, he intrigued her to no end. Zandelia was always one to try and dig deep into secrets, hoarding information for her own purposes. She would lever out as much as she could from him, perhaps following up at a later date with her own enquiries. Still, what was more important to her at present was staying alive, and if possible intact.

“So why don’t we put down our weapons and talk before we end up beating the living hell out of each other?” she stated, making the wise decision, she knew. If he had two swords she would be outmatched in a pitched battle.

All that is left now is to talk she thought to herself as she stretched out her arms to the side in a gesture of peace that was universal in its application.

[Eridanus]

“Why the petching hell are you talking like that?”, the woman replied with an astonished tone, making it clear to the Ethaefal that she was probably one of the typical modern Sunberthians out there, and he mentally dropped the idea of needing to speak formally with this lady. He may be at risk of sounding like an old-fashioned anachronism, but he had picked up this form of speaking when he was interacting with the archaic Nuits on Sahova centuries ago, with some of them who have even experienced pre-Valterrian life. As she replied, it seemed she was studying him, and Eri did so as well, except that maybe he brought the concept of 'examination' one step further by truly examining her, feeding a bit of djed into his head as he focused on her aura, the blue and green mist that signified her colour (to the mage, at least) appearing over her physical form. The two strangers openly examined each other, and Eri began to see that the human would be considered as physically attractive by most human men, if not for the huge scar that seemed to be the reason behind her other eye's blindness. His gaze was drawn to the scar, and at the same time he studied the aura that the presence of djed in her body emanated, piecing together disjunct information that he gleaned to figure our that the scar was sustained in some sort of battle of freedom. He felt a touch of empathy for the woman, for though he had not sustained a physical scar, he suffered an equally huge mental scar in his own escape from slavery many decades ago. It was one of the events in his past that defined his personality and outlook on life today, and on his strong belief in personal freedom and one's inalienable right to pursue happiness - within reason, of course. He turned his gaze to her other eye, and he found himself staring into its depths as she chose to do the same, the both of them seeing into each other's souls for that magical split second that reminded each other subconsciously of the strong, unknown, bond between humanity and the power of such friendships that allowed their race to survive the rending of the world and even begin to rebuild their world, one brick at a time. Should the woman be experienced in these sorts of things, she would have seen from the Ethaefal's eyes that despite his seeming celestial indifference he was inherently human and chasing memories of his remnant humanity in order to come to terms with his current plight just as humans pursue immortality. “I see you have horns my shadowy friend. I hope that doesn’t mean you’re here to eat me as I won’t make it easy. So, my first question is what the shyke are you? You look like a man, but I damned well never have heard of horned men”, the woman replied and Eri did not need to be using Auristics to realize that she might be beginning to take a confrontational stance, both the shift in her aura and her body behaviour signifying her intent. The Ethaefal sighed, for he had already displayed his intent with his hands held out high in the universal gesture of surrender or one's commitment to non-violence, and he began shutting down the flow of djed into his senses in order to conserve his energy should the need to defend himself arise. She seemed to realize his intent, though, and she decided that outright violence was not a civil way of communication. Eri heartily agreed, and he sighed in relief when she finally said “So why don’t we put down our weapons and talk before we end up beating the living hell out of each other?”. "Yes, of course. Fighting is most tiring and unnecessary, isn't it?" He remarked, securing the sheaths of his blades to his back so that he would not have to wave them about while grasping on to them with his hands. "I am an an Ethaefal, m'lady, named after one of the constellations above - Eridanus. In our celestial shells we do not have to eat anything or fulfill any of your mortal requirements, but in my human self I do require nutritional sustenance. Rest assured that I personally frown upon cannibalism", he added just in case she was wondering if he was considering her suitability for a meal. Nothing was further from the truth, though it was personally amusing that someone actually thought that he might eat her. "What is your business here? It is fine if you wish to proceed without interference, but I am fairly familiar with this place and may be able to assist you", he offered, as a way to satisfy his curiosity in why would someone enter this depository of knowledge. Would she be like him, needing a place to stay safely and who had wisely came to the same decision as him? Or would she be actually here to pursue the knowledge that was written in the thousands of tomes placed throughout the building?

[Zandelia]

As the man spoke to her, his intense gaze seeming to looks through her and around her more than at her, she could feel the trickle of something familiar to her mind. It came like the itching of the scalp, the back of her skull covered with a crawling sensation that seemed an attempt by her senses to translate what they felt into conscious knowledge for her to process. They failed in that process, however, and she was merely left with the suspicion that all was not as it seemed with her new companion in the dusty shadows of dried parchment. She kept the smile upon her lips still, though it lost some of its lustrous and full appearance as the distraction set in and her curiosity, strong as ever, began to set her thoughts into motion. She thought that she recognized a small gleam in his eyes, however, and the almost vacant gaze hinted at something inherently known to her but she was forced to let the consideration slip away with his series of words.

An Ethaefal? Aren’t they…ghosts…or something? Fallen gods? I can’t remember what I was ever told about them. I thought they weren’t real! she thought to herself, the glint of realised opportunity aflame in her single eye now for all to see. She could learn much from such as he, as long as his claim was found to be truth.

“I thought that they were just found in the stories, the you were, rather. I’ve never seen one of your kind. It is said you knew the gods themselves and possess immortality. Does that mean if I were to stab you you’d just shrug it off?” she asked, knowing that such a person would prove to be a valuable ally in the city of Sunberth. Still, she merely shrugged it off, content in the knowledge that over the course of the night she would learn more than she had initially thought upon setting out on her small sojourn.

She let herself wander the bookcase she was next to, her fingers brushing across the spines of dozens of tomes, their knowledge within almost seeming to possess an energy to her mind. She found herself wondering if knowledge truly held an intrinsic power in and of itself, rather than in its application or withholding by others. She would have liked to think so, though she could not see it crackling from the pages of the book she pulled free to glance over before placing back into its proper place. No, the only crackling here was the slitting of the ancient pages. It was a shame, she supposed, that Sunberth held all of the knowledge around them but none ever sought to gain or use it. She had learnt much in the last season, the terrors she had experienced being a catalyst for her renewed vigour. She had learnt the value of knowledge for its own sake and she would have aid in her quest for it.

“I have come to…peruse…the shelves you might say. I come for very specific knowledge so long as it can be found within these walls. I seek knowledge of the origins of Sunberth, of its formation and its labours. There are dark, dank places in this city – I have seen them all to closely myself. I would arm myself with a steel shield of information about them before I pursue them once again” she spoke up with a light tone that attempted to disguise the fullness of her desire, her need to know.

“I would also have any tome you may know of upon espionage, intelligence and related skills. I do not imagine there will be much, but what there is shall prove to be more than most people have had in this rotten metropolis” she finished, turning to face the Ethaefal once more now, hands upon her hips as they angled to one side, causing her back to arch in just the right way to push her bust forwards. It was an age old trick of suggestion coupled with manipulation – one which worked all too often indeed.

“Would you happen to know of any that I could use, perhaps help me find them? I would be very grateful” she let the words linger a few moments in the air between them, awaiting his assent or refusal.

Let us see if you are possessing of the same vices as mortal men she thought to herself, calculating mentally each step their dance of introduction would take, making mental notes for future purposes.

[Eridanus]

“I thought that they were just found in the stories, the you were, rather. I’ve never seen one of your kind. It is said you knew the gods themselves and possess immortality. Does that mean if I were to stab you you’d just shrug it off?” The woman asked, and Eri wondered if she was going to physically go through with her experiment. In order to discourage her from such thoughts, he quickly replied, "Yeah, with knew being the key word here. The Valterrian tore me away from Leth, and I have been searching for a way to return to my proper place since. And while I do not die from old age like mortals do, I presumably will die if you stab me enough times." He thought for a moment, and added, "Well scratch the enough times part. I will die." He did not want to give the human any strange ideas. She began to brush her fingers pass the dusty tomes in the same manner Eri had done upon his arrival at the library, and she expressed her desire for knowledge, which struck a good spot within the Ethaefal for he too was a purveyor of knowledge and he had the strong belief in enabling equal sharing of knowledge should the races of Mizahar hope to progress. His liberal education in Zeltiva had influenced his thoughts somewhat on this subject, though the school of hard knocks that schooled him while he was in the streets and wilderness taught him enough to institute sufficient paranoia within him to not reveal more than he should unless he knew the person well or if they were in a safe environment like Zeltiva or Syliras. The human turned to face Eri, and he instantly recognized her approach for this very same technique had been used on him several times by a multitude of hopeful lasses especially when he was in this form. He wondered if his celestial glamour had begun to addle this woman's brains, but the steely glint of determination in her single remaining eye suggested otherwise. If he were in his mortal form the human male within him might appreciate the suggestive approach of the lady, but in his celestial form he remained unaffected by the desires of the mortal body and he ignored her feeble attempts. It was a good attempt though, he had to give her that, and it was not her fault that he was physiologically unreceptive to her come-ons. "I do, actually, follow me", he replied casually, wanting to help not because of the success of her seduction but more because he saw no harm in doing so, leading her through a maze of shelves that had proved to be confusing to him when he first arrived, but more familiar as he explored the contents of the library day by day. He would miss this place most of all when he left Sunberth. He had stumbled upon a bunch of books hinting at such topics regarding clandestine knowledge while he had been searching for books on meditative techniques a few days ago. Glad that his accidental knowledge now came in handy, he ushered the woman closer to where he was standing when he finally stopped their trek into the maze of shelves and gestured ahead. "This what you looking for?" He asked, and in front of him were displayed several books that had titles suggesting of content that might match what she was looking for. While she would presumably be checking the books to see if Eri found her what she needed, he would proceed with small talk, "What's your name anyway? It feels weird to address you as 'that woman'."

[Zandelia]

Zandelia felt a slither of surprise creep through her at the man’s rebuttal of her seductive advances, turning them aside with a brusque nature that might very well have been equal parts disdain and indifference. Slightly more infuriating was that he barely looked at her before spinning on his heel, expecting her to follow as if she were a good little lapdog. Still, as she walked behind him and seethed inwardly in silence she could take comfort in the fact that she had been freely given information as to the character of this Ethaefal, admission from his own lips meeting the unsaid pieces of knowledge she had gleaned in the last few moments for herself – that he held no interest in women at all, or at least woman with full vigorous figure at any rate. It could mean that he was a non-sexual being completely, or it could indicate he was not interested in women. Zandelia was not sure which one it was at that point in time.

Perhaps he does indeed prefer the hardness of men over the softness of women, but I suspect the reasoning is more complex. This creature has no simplicity to him she mused to herself as she was led down narrow aisle after narrow aisle, bobbing, weaving and turning in their journey to what she assumed was where she would find what she desired most from the library.

Book after book was pushed into her hands for her consideration, although the majority of them were non-specific in nature and would be cursory reads at best she suspected. Still, she laced them in a growing stack in her hands, walking along with the man, choosing a book here and rejecting another there – lacing it back upon the shelf where it had been pulled from. It seemed a little blasphemous to put them out of their order, lovingly organized as it was. As they progressed she began to feel that, if there were a temple to Akajia’s form, then laces such as the library were where they would be located. Silent, shadowy and filled to the brim with secrets and knowledge that few could read, let alone absorb adequately. She found herself wondering if it would please Akajia that she had thought about that, but then realizing that it would be pointless to ask. According to popular opinion the goddess went wherever he pleased and held no place as her central seat of power.

Her power comes from her shadowy and insubstantial nature I suppose. To build a temple would bring a solidity to her that might not aid her at all Zandelia thought to herself in all seriousness, her consciousness telling her they were coming to a slow stop now.

"What's your name anyway? It feels weird to address you as 'that woman'” the man asked her, his horn-framed face turning to look at hers with a gentleness and earnest joy that she had not expected to see there. Clearly he found peace and substance within the walls of his home, or second home – whichever it may have been.

“Zandelia, my name is Zandelia,” she gave her first name to him, still cautious as to whether she should trust her new helping hand, “though what you call me does not truly matter. I have no ties and people know me by others. But Zandelia is as good as any for you” she finished, lacing the books upon a small table with a resounding thud to alleviate their weighing down of her arms.

Books were surprisingly heavy she had found, especially in abundance, and as she sorted them into piles of least to most importance and relevance she found that they were of all shapes and sizes too. Once done she turned and leant her hip against the table, watching the man continue his dedicated searching. He was an avid helper when it came to education, that fact she could not fault at all.

“So you know my name, and you have told me yours. Named after a constellation you said? Is that where you came from in the sky? Or was a more personal choice? Naming yourself must be a hard affair,” she began to probe into his life in a circumspect way so as to delay and suspicion, “I suppose I should feel lucky I was given mine without needing to think” she continued in a considering voice, as if weighing her thoughts in the air between them.

“I can’t imagine being with the gods and then being down here in this bloody cess pit of a world. If that had happened to me I think I might have just drowned myself” she stated, an attempt at drawing out an emotional reasons or any other clues that may help her give further definition and substance to both Eridanus and the Ethaefal themselves – under the assumption they were all relatively the same.

[Eridanus]

Eri handed book after book to the human, some of which she discarded by replacing it, others she kept in the growing pile of books in her hands as they continued. “Zandelia, my name is Zandelia," the woman replied. Eri's mind wondered, as he tended to do while engaging in a physical activity that required little focus, 'No wonder her aura smells a little like dandelions.' It sounded ridiculous to him if he were to wander out loud, and so he merely shrugged to himself, continuing his search. "I was named by an ancient Nuit wizard, who found me when I dropped from the sky into this mortal realm," he said, not really thinking about his history. There was really nothing much that could be done about the information he was revealing, for it occurred too long ago to serve any current practical use to anyone. She continued on, and at the word 'drown' he turned sharply to look at her, a disconcerting look on his face, for he had indeed been ripped from his communion with the gods and thrown down into this cesspool of mortals. He had experienced dangers and pain throughout his existence here, and was fortunate enough to stay alive through the help of others, sometimes of Priskil, and the rest through sheer luck and hard-earned skills. His very experience into Mizahar had been one of drowning, and it was only through the intervention of the wizened Diren of Sahova that he had escaped that terrifying fate. "I might not be too sure about drowning oneself, Zandelia. Life is precious as it comes, and many wicked others seek to end it or twist it for their own purposes," Eri told the human, perhaps a little too sharply than he might have intended for she struck a little raw nerve within him. If she were observant enough she might have noticed this subtle change in demeanour. The Ethaefal realized this soon after, and he took a deep breath to calm his thoughts, and busied himself by continuing to check the series of books, shelf after shelf. Turning back to Zandelia, he called, "Have you found what you wanted?"

[Zandelia]

Zandelia caught the sharpness of his tones, the language of his body easy to read even to the all but blind observer, turning around as quickly as he had done, the glint in his eyes and the flash of consternation upon his countenance. No, she had offended him some how, though she had no idea of the manner in which she had done so. She knew nothing of the Ethaefal or their customs and merely assumed she had broken some sort of sacred trust, mentioned perhaps the gods in a way that was insulting. In that she knew she would have to learn more from this man, this being being a more accurate description to her now. She knew he was not entirely human, though he possessed the look of one – despite the delicate horns upon his head. Still, he had not responded to her advances as most mortal men would and talked in a manner that was profoundly non-human also.

A mystery your kind are to me, and mysteries are what I like to end for a living. Let us see how much I can dispel this smoky exterior of yours she thought to herself, glancing at Eridanus every so often out of the corners of her eyes as she looked over the books before her.

“I’m not so sure about that Eridanus,” Zandelia responded with a small smile, “I would think that the reality of this world is that life is short, brutal and filled with difficulty. We don’t all live forever after all. We spend most of our time grasping for powers out of our reach and only a few are ever rewarded. And those are only rewarded off of the backs of other dead people” she mused out loud, her tone heavy and sad but realistic and blunt at the same time. She had no time for philosophies of pacifism. She knew that Sunberth held no place for such thinking.

She kept her attention upon the books for the most part over the next few minutes, picking them up to inspect their spines before flicking through them to random pages after viewing their contents – if they even had one – to see if there was a goldmine of possibilities within their pages. Some she consigned almost automatically to the pile upon her left, growing rapidly and indicating they were all but useless to her. Some held small pieces of information upon the art of intelligence, but hardly enough to deserve being taken from the Library for perusal. However, a few books here and there were placed upon her right, ones which she would sift through at greater length before deciding whether there were worth her time and money. Still, the pile of positively chosen tomes numbered no more than four once all had been sorted and the useless ones had been placed back where they had come from, as accurately as she could put them at any rate.

“Well, there are more here than I had dared to hope if I am honest. Many books were destroyed in the Valterrian I have been told, and the height of intelligence and espionage was before the reckoning I would imagine,” she responded to his question as she sat down upon a chair and gestured at the other opposite her for Eridanus, “though I suppose you would know more of that than I would?” she left the question open in case he saw fit to give her information that precious, her hopes not altogether too high.

Still, you don’t garner unless you try and he seems the type to respond to direct, honest questions more than subterfuge she thought to herself as he sat opposite her at the table and looked over the four tomes she had spread out before her.

“Tell Eridanus, my bookish friend, what was it like to be amongst the gods? Was it wonderful?” she asked him, seeing if she could tease out some more information upon his people as they sat and read together, gathering intelligence of a differing kind.

She set about the precedent by opening a large book about twice the size of her head, truly a large tome of knowledge rather than a small repository of intelligence. It was dusty too, the pages almost cracking at the edges as she delicately moved them, blowing the dust from the pages as she turned each one. It seemed a promising beginning seeing as it was called ’Tactical Espionage and its Practical Applications’, the author’s name now eroded by the rigours of time and no mention of their name could she find within the pages themselves. Still, it was one she would be taking with her she knew, though its weight was cumbersome at best.

“Come Eridanus, please, tell me of your people. I know nothing of your kind, yourself being the first one I have met” she asked him after she closed the first book with a smile of satisfaction and put it to the side.

[Eridanus]

The human woman who called herself Zandelia mused about the realities of the world, and Eri agreed with her, for that was how the world was pushed forward, how progress was made. Death was the common motivator for most races that pushed them to progress, push them towards greatness, to push them towards doing what they wanted to do before they passed on the Lhex. She began to flip through books, and while scanning for whatever it is that she wanted she asked him about his race, about him.

He was used to this curiosity, as his race was relatively rare on Mizahar, due to the simple reason that they did not belonged here. They were meant to be in Ukalas with Leth or Syna, but instead the rift caused by the Valterrian had drawn them down against their wishes. He remembered telling a Vantha mage about himself a long time ago, and how he had not believed him. It did not matter really, whether people believed him or not, for their thoughts were theirs and they could think what they wanted to think.

"I do not know much about myself, honestly. I only remember bits and fragments what it was like to be with the gods, but I'd assure you that it was bliss beyond belief, beyond any pleasure that I could find on this mortal plane," He replied simply. There were many things on his mind, many things to do and seek, but he did not see fit to tell it all to a random stranger. No, she would have to be content with what she was told, for there was a tone in finality in his explanation. It did not meant that he was wary of revealing such information for fear of his safety, but it was more like him not feeling to launch into a lengthy explanation to a human he just met. There was no motivation for him to make the effort, that's all.

He peered over at the book that she was currently scanning, and he saw the title 'Tactical Espionage and its Practical Applications' on the cover, though who the author was he could not tell for the words were too faded to make any visual sense.

"What is your interest in this?" He asked. Most of the denizens of Sunberth were at least somewhat proficient in the art of intelligence gathering - or more crudely put, gossiping and listening - and a certain few were experts who made a living through that. He strongly believed that Master Tua was one of these experts. Information was power, and this power could be exercised for gold or favours. He wondered if Zandelia was planning to make a living off this skill, for it might likely be so for her to show a deep enough interest to actually find a book about it.