6th of Spring 513 AV The way to read a fairy tale is to throw yourself in... “… and so they all followed the little girl into the dark alley. None of the sailors was ever seen again.” Elliha looked at the people sitting in front of him. It was early in the morning and the World’s End Grotto was still quiet empty. Only a few sailors that wished for a good breakfast before setting sail were around and eating or already drinking the first beer of the day. Elliha himself would not drink alcohol anymore. As he had discovered recently it did not only poison the mind, but also his head to a great extent leading to the worst headache he had since he fell from one of the great trees of Avanthal as a child. The sailors sitting on his table were following his eyes with their own as he remained silent for a few moments to create a little more suspense. Elliha leaned forward to indicate that he would be speaking more quietly now and the sailors leaned forward as well, eager to understand every word and see every gesture. “It is said that a few people, however, heard something that night: The laugh of a child and the next day, the small alley was painted in crimson, walls and ground completely covered in blood.“ Elliha waited another moment, before continuing. “The plague is not what you should fear on the streets of Zeltiva. If you ever hear a girl crying at night, run or you shall be used to colour another street in crimson. “He leaned back in his chair again. “What nonsense.” One of the sailors whispered while displaying an insecure smile. Elliha look at the man. “You say that and yet I can see fear in your eyes.” Elliha replied and slammed his hand onto the table. The sailor flinched and almost knocked down his glass, while all the others around him started laughing. “Are you afraid of little girls now, Jeff?” One of them said while patting the man’s shoulder. The sailor named Jeff gave Elliha a grim look but then started laughing as well. It was always a relief to laugh after hearing a dark story, especially if one was afraid it might not just be a story. “Well, gentlemen that is it. Thank you for the attention.” Elliha said while rising from his chair. He had collected the coins they had given him for his story and safely dropped them into his pocket. Elliha did not like to “sell” his stories and so he would never asked for money or anything, but the people often gave him a few coins or paid for a meal or a few drinks. “That was a good story! Haven’t heard one of those in a long time!” Another sailor shouted at him as he was leaving. Elliha stopped for a moment. “Just a story…? Is it really, I wonder?” He whispered without looking back at the table. He knew the men could hear him as the few people at the inn were rather silent due to the early hour. With that last phrase he left the World’s End Grotto and stepped into the sunlight. The season of winter was over and the sun honoured the people of Zeltiva with its smile more often now. Elliha smiled as well. The story he had just told was one he came up with only a few days ago, it was certainly not one of his best, rather simple and the impact it had on the listeners resulted more from the glimpse of fear or doubt that remained in their hearts after hearing it. Such a story had to take place in Zeltiva, otherwise the sailors would hardly feel any form of fear or doubt. Romantic fairy tales could take place in some far away country, but stories that play with fear had to be as close to the audience as possible. Presenting a little girl, usually associated with innocence and harmlessness, as a mysterious and cruel murderer would help as well. It was just a simple reversed symbolism, but hopefully it would do the trick. Elliha knew the men would not be really afraid, not now at least. They would eat up their meal, get onto the ship, leave Zeltiva and forget about his story within hours. But someday they would return, they would drink until night in some pub and then step into the dark and silent streets of Zeltiva to get home. Then they will remember… He thought. As he walked down the street Elliha quickly shifted his attention away from the sailors back at the inn, he had more important things to do today. He turned around a corner and walked towards the greatest library in Mizahar: The Wright Memorial Library. He had been in Zeltiva for quite some time now, but he did not visit the library once. It was my very reason for coming to this city and yet… What kept me from coming here? Fear…? Of what? A god? To fall back into the past? Or am I just afraid to fail? Am I afraid to find nothing and that all this would just be a great waste of time? Or was it not fear at all, but rather the distractions of an unknown city? He asked himself while walking into the big library building. Maybe it was just a combination of both. Things were never simple and there was rarely just one explanation for human behaviour. Elliha snapped out of his thoughts when he reached one of the great halls of the library. He had no difficulties in believing that this was indeed the greatest collection of books in whole Mizahar. The huge shelves at his left and right side were filled with books. He had never seen so many at one place. This library would be ideal to find the information he sought and it was probably even better to find some stories, tales and legends. However, finding the books he wanted could be quiet difficult, at least without help. Elliha wanted to start with something simple before beginning with his research on the gods. A few books about some old legends should do it. As if he could read his thoughts one of the librarians approached him, “Do you require some help?” he asked in a friendly voice. “Indeed, I do. I am looking for a book or two about the old legends of Zeltiva. I need them for some historical research.” Elliha did not want to tell him that he was just a simple storyteller looking for new fables, although he was by no means ashamed of his profession, most people would hardly call it a profession. The librarian would certainly not deny his request just because he was a storyteller, but there was no need to risk anything by telling him such trivial matters. Besides, a busy scholar was a lot more fitting and less outstanding in a library than a storyteller from Avanthal. As so often a whispering voice of doubt threw a phrase into his mind. You just want to feel less vulnerable by hiding your true self. Elliha pushed this thought to the back of his mind, now was not the time for this kind of thoughts. “I think we should be able to find something. Please follow me.” The librarian replied and started walking down the great hall. They passed what seemed like countless shelves filled with countless books until the librarian finally stopped and approached one of the shelves. “If you are looking for some basic information those should be helpful.” He said while pulling out some rather slim books and handing them to Elliha. He thanked the librarian and sat down on one of the reading desks. He stacked the five books in front of him, grabbed the first and opened it. The history of Zeltiva in 25 Chapters Elliha began to read, but closed the book again after having finished the second chapter. Although this was undoubtedly interesting, dry history was only of limited use for really great stories. It is the task of a storyteller to show his audience a fantastic world they cannot see in reality and not to teach them about history. Tales and stories should not serve reason but emotion and fantasy. He grabbed another book from the pile, this one was very slim. The title read: Investigating unexplained occurrences and phenomena in the city of Zeltiva This seemed a lot more useful for Elliha’s purpose. He opened the book and began to read. It was subdivided into fifteen parts, every part dealt with certain occurrences, their background and the final investigation from the author. One of the phenomena caught Ellihas attention; it involved a ghost or “non-material presence” in the Wright Memorial library. According to several reports, students have seen a spectral presence while studying in the library late at night. The most remarkable report came from a student that stated to have been chased by the ghost away from a certain part of the library, however there was no indication of which one he was referring to. The author qualified this particular report as “probably false due to lack of other matching statements”. Elliha liked the idea it though. Unfortunately, there was no information on the ghost besides the reports of the students. Not even a possible identity of the ghost or any connected incident in the library. He thought while reading the analysis of the author. Apparently, he had spent many nights in the library and asked several students to watch out for any odd occurrences, but neither he nor the students he worked with could find any proof of a ghost. Elliha closed this book as well; it was not as interesting as he had hoped. A ghost was nothing extraordinary; also this one was not even a real story, just a mere rumour, but maybe he could turn it into a story. Not another horror story though. He thought while tossing the book aside. Maybe a love story with tragic ending? No, no, too ordinary. The suicide of a student that somehow failed…? Too simple. The result of a magical experiment? Seems better, maybe I could even include some ancient magic from the past… He would think of the details when he had more time and inspiration. Today, all he wanted was information; they would come together to some nice or interesting stories eventually. Elliha grabbed the next book. This one seemed to be a book of fables for children. Most of the stories did not involve a defined location, but some of them took place somewhere in Sylira. They were simple, both plot- and language-wise. But in this case it did not matter; knowing some good stories for children was always useful. Furthermore, Elliha had always believed that children where a good audience, their minds were not poisoned by the knowledge about the rules of our real world yet, as such they were a lot more open to the fantastic worlds Elliha loved to create in his tales. Most adults would see those worlds, as if they would be looking through a window, but children were able to open that window and jump outside. He read all ten fables in the book, the most entertaining one was about a famous captain of a trading fleet who became a pirate to fight corrupt authorities. Another interesting one was set around a woman that became a sailor in order to find her lost love. Elliha closed the book as well and began reading the next one. Even after he had seen through all the books the librarian had given him he stayed in Library and searched for more on his own. He found a lot more books that contained stories he could tell or somehow use, but he did not stop at that. After reading many books on history and legends of Zeltiva he would just randomly take one or two books and skim through them. Sometimes they contained interesting information or knowledge, but some were just plain boring or Elliha did not understand them; either because they were written in a language he did not know or because they dealt with topics he had no knowledge about. After spending what seemed like an eternity inside the library browsing through all different types of books he finally left the university complex and made his way back to the World’s End Grotto. He had been so fascinated by all the books he found that he even forgot to eat. When Elliha reached and entered the inn, however, all the tables were already occupied. “You can sit with us, if you like.” Somebody said behind him. They voice came from a young man, maybe around Elliha’s own age, sitting on a small table near the entrance. As Elliha approached the table the young man stood up and introduced himself as well as another man and a young woman that were sitting beside him. They were most likely students at the university eating dinner and drinking a beer after studying. “We saw you in the library earlier, are you studying in Zeltiva as well?” One of them asked confirming his assumption. Elliha took a chair and sat down. “No, I am just a humble storyteller who likes to read a little from time to time.” “Just a storyteller? Really? Do you know any good stories then?” The other student asked quickly. Ellihas look darkened for a moment. “Of course, all of my stories are good, but not everybody is able to appreciate them.” he replied in a condescending tone. Elliha was not particularly filled with pride, but he did take some pride in his art and he disliked being called “just” a storyteller. “Forgive him, he is an idiot. I would love to hear one of your stories, if you are willing to share them with us.” The woman said with an apologetic smile. Elliha thought for a while. He had an idea, developing stories spontaneously was always rather difficult, but also a nice challenge. He looked at the woman and then nodded and began telling his story. “You might have heard about the rumour of a ghost that resides in the Wright Memorial Library…” |