Closed Stranger Things

[Erio]

55 SUMMER 513 A.V.
MIDDAY.

A flash. A rumble. The signs were subtle, but the event itself was not. The thunderstorm came upon Wind Reach with all the fury a storm god could muster, sending the fiery inarta spiraling away, desperate to avoid extinguishment. The eagles stayed in their aeries and the chiet closed their doors as lightning and rain ruled the courtyards, and even the caverns bellowed with their ominous intent. Truly, it seemed as though today was a day the sky proved His dominance over man once more.

Erio heard the sounds of the chaos outside and grinned. The air around him was pleasantly warm and he nestled farther into his chair. His feeling of comfort grew. “Zulrav, I laugh at your pitiful attempt…” he mumbled as he shook his fist upwards. His grin grew wider.

It was a good day to do nothing. As lightning and rain exhausted themselves upon the slopes, Erio felt it was quite a fitting revenge to contemptuously ignore the maelstrom outside and do nothing but sit indoors and crack the spine of a good book. And, of course, Erio was dealing out his revenge in the fullest.

He did take a moment, however, to look around at the grandiose cavern in which he had sought refuge. The Enclave was not Erio’s favorite haunt, but it sure came close. The books, the knowledge, the quiet atmosphere! It all excited Erio, in a very unexciting sort of way.

…Well, no one never said Erio was a poet. He only read their works.

Such musings trailed away as Erio grew more and more engrossed in his book. Even as he read, Time marched on; and here, in the library of Wind Reach, She seemed to run. A bell and a chime fluttered by like startled birds as the boy read, and then Erio ran out of pages. Time abruptly slowed down back to normal.

The aged chair squeaked in complaint as the yasi arose and stepped away. He dawdled down the rows of never ending books, finally emerging near the receptionist, his golden eyes aglow with mischief.

“I’ve finished this one,” Erio sighed as he slid the book onto the reception desk, “Quite a bore, if I do say so myself…the reconcilement between the hero and the villain was hardly worth all the buildup.”

He blinked as he foresaw a response. “The fact that it’s a work of nonfiction isn’t an excuse either, so don’t try that one.”

Erio sighed again. “In any case, I have exhausted all interesting tales I know of. I require assistance in finding a suitable replacement. Can you help me?” he asked the library helper this final question with a innocent smile, mustering up all the charm of his collective fourteen years.

“Pretty please?”

[Euthisa]

The weather was pleasant when Euthisa arrived at the Enclave that morning. A day like any other, the Chiet would spend most of her day in the wonderful library, helping those in need, organizing books, cleaning, and anything else that was required of her for the day. A few citizens scattered themselves throughout the tables and chairs, reading, researching, lounging and quietly socializing. Euthisa would wander among the many shelves, find a book she was interested in for herself, and in between cleaning books up after those who had left, she'd sit at her desk and read to pass the time. Stories of distant lands, logs of history, romantic novels, many different kinds of books passed through Euthisa's hands on an almost daily basis.

It was peaceful, serene, in the Enclave, despite the raging fury the elements unleashed on Mt.Skyinarta outside. Thunder boomed, lightning flashed, and rain poured, like rolling waves falling from the skies. Not a soul was to be found caught outside, all citizens of Wind Reach locked snugly in their homes and stores, or any building they were near when the storm opened up upon them. Some had made their haven inside the Enclave, and those uninterested in reading or research, huddled amongst themselves, talking quietly or napping while they waited for the storm to pass.

Opening her own book, Euthisa dived into the story written on the pages the way she always did. Head first and all in. From what she could tell in the beginning of the tale, this one was a romantic story about two people from the same village, one of higher class and one of lower, who were attracted to each other, but not allowed to be. Time ticked on as Euthisa read, discovering the perils and challenges the couple faced, from secret meetings to see one another, to plans of running away, and at the end, finally announcing to their whole village that nothing and no one could get in the way of their love, and they would be together, ridiculed or not, regardless of what anyone thought. The story was touching and sincere, leaving Euthisa wondering if she'd ever find that kind of love with someone in her life.

Shortly after finishing her book, a golden eyed Inarta was at her desk, also with a finished book she assumed he needed her to put away. Flashing a welcoming smile, Euthisa's eyes took the boy in. He looked no older than fifteen, perhaps a little younger, and his eyes were bright, both with color, and a bit of a natural mischievous that seemed to grip all yasi boys in Wind Reach. It was tied to the bold and proud nature of the Inarta people, and often kept youngsters in trouble. He shared his opinion of the novel with her, complaining that the ending result wasn't worth the way the beginning of the story built it up. Noting what book it was, Euthisa opened her mouth to dispute that the story was a work of nonfiction, when the yasi beat her to it and put her claims to rest before she could spit them out.

Euthisa flashed another friendly smile as he asked her help in finding another book to read. Attempting to turn on his boyish charm, golden eyes and "innocent" lips smiling at her from the other side of her desk. Mildly rolling her eyes and giggly warmly to herself, Euthisa stood from her seat and nodded towards the bookshelves nearby. Let's go find you something to read next." Wandering over to the nearest set of shelves, knowing the young man was right behind her, she started asking questions. "I don't think I've seen you in here before, do you come here often? And what kind of story are you interested in reading?" Awaiting his response, Euthisa mindlessly ran her fingers along the spines of the books on the shelf nearest her.

[Erio]

Golden eyes cut sharp, appraising. Another smile doted on the child’s lips. “Your first question is rather a matter of perspective, don’t you think? Say I came here hundreds of times, but over a span of several years. I would have visited many times, sure, but as the time between my visits was rather lengthy, would I be considered to have ‘come here often’? And what if I was compared to someone who had visited thousands of times? Would I pale in comparison, or would this second person simply be seen as obsessive?” His smile grew almost bold.

“But teacher says not to turn every question into a debate, so you must forgive me. To give the short, boring answer; yes, I have been here before, but not very often.”

Erio gave the librarian time to digest his response, running pudgy, adolescent fingers along the books in an unconscious echo of Euthisa’s own movements. His eyes and his mind drifted down the aisle, fondly acquainting with the hard wood and soft vellum of the books and shelves. Before long, however, his attention had returned to his guide, drinking in the details. What he saw only increased his youthful curiosity, and once again he plowed into conversation.

“Stories I like, you ask? Well, there are two genres I’m interested in - tales of romantic adventure where the hero never fails to rescue the maiden fair, and stories of chilling horror wherein everyone perishes.” Erio snickered slightly. “Teacher says I have unusual tastes, but I just tell him that I like to vary my choices.”

“Though…I couldn’t help but notice the book you yourself were reading right before I walked up. I’m familiar with it, and it seems to fall quite well into my first genre of choice. This, combined with the simple fact that you work here, leads me to believe you are a good judge of literary integrity, so I will leave the selection up to you. In short - feel free to surprise me.”

The yasi fell silent then, content that he said all he had needed to say. He remained as such for a bell before a nagging thought hit him.

“Oh, by the way, my name’s Erio. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

[Euthisa]

Her mouth gaped open at the young boy who stood before her. He'd blown her mind, dumbfounded her, with an intensely philosophical response to a mindless question asked in mild conversation. She herself, depending on the subject, would struggle to give such an answer, and she was aged at least five years on the boy. However, his answer was bold and seemed to take little to no effort on his part to produce. The idea left Euthisa bewildered, and intrigued.

"A mind and wit like that, it surprises me that you haven't been here more often than you say. You're a natural intellect." She scanned the shelves of books nearby, the smell of paper and ink heavy in the air around them. Emerald eyes read over titles of many kinds, from made up tales to history books for researching, to biographies of some of Wind Reach's great writers. She listened intently as he explained the stories he liked, laughing at himself for his unique mix of tastes. "That is quite a drastic genre change, but I like your diversity. It's not a bad thing at all. An open mind is a wise mind. And forgive me if I'm assuming too much, but I have an inkling feeling that on some level or another, you relate to both genres. A kindred feeling for each would explain why you are able to appreciate and delve into both."

She glanced at the Yasi as he mentioned the book she was reading. His golden eyes were already full of knowledge, and mischief, and Euthisa's mindset towards him was torn. On one hand, she was deeply intrigued by him, knowing that as foolish as it would sound, she could learn quite a bit from the boy. On the other, a young mind so sharp and mysterious could be dangerous if he chose it to be. He seemingly teetered on the edge of brilliance and maleficence, and part of her, perhaps simply because she is a woman, worried for him. He still had plenty of growing up to do, and whatever he went through between now and that time, and how he handled it all mentally, would dictate which way he'd fall off that edge.

Attention coming back to what he was saying, having now introduced himself as Erio, Euthisa refocused her mind on the task at hand. "It's nice to meet you, Erio. I am Euthisa. Feel free to call me Euth or Isa if you wish. It's easier for many. And thank you for the compliment on my literary judgement skills. It is appreciated." Strolling down the aisle they were in, green eyes quickly scanning title after title on the shelves around them, Euthisa meandered along, trying to find a suitable book for Erio to read. After so boldly putting his faith in her ability to satiate his needs, Euthisa felt bound and determined not to fail him.

She rounded the corner and strode into another aisle, knowing, or hoping, Erio would be right behind her. These particular bookshelves contained the stories made by scholars of Wind Reach, citizens, left behind by those passing through, or imported from other cities. Some of these stories were wild, others sappy, and others chilling to the bone. Euthisa wanted to give Erio two books to read, one from each of his genres of choice. Delicate fingers frantically prodded the shelves as she searched for the books to fulfill her quest. She found one on the bottom shelf, and greedily she plucked it from the others, dusted it off, and tucked it beneath her arm. It was the darker of the two she was looking for, and it wasn't read very often. Turning to search the shelves behind her, Euthisa was determinedly frantic once more as she looked for the book she had in mind.

She knew most by title, or at least roughly knew them, and she'd read many of them in her time at The Enclave. There was a particular book she was looking for, having read it herself just several weeks ago. It was another tale like the one she was reading moments ago, a romantic adventure, this one with a little bit of a darker twist to it, and she just knew Erio would love it. She finally found it, tucked neatly among its shelf buddies, and with a satisfied sigh, she pulled it off the shelf. "These should satisfy both genres you're interested in. I hope, haha. Is there anything else you need assistance with?" Euthisa said, handing the two books to the young boy.

[Erio]

Erio chuckled, low and soft. “Finally, someone who understands me!” he exclaimed wryly.

Besides the backhanded comment, however, the child kept quiet. His strange golden eyes, a product of inartan heritage, kept a steady gaze on the back of the librarian’s head as they rounded corners and strode down aisles of dusty bookshelves. These eyes followed Euthisa’s hands as they selected their books, searching for recognition. To the boy’s surprise and delight, he couldn’t remember reading either of them.

He eagerly accepted them, one book shuffled to the edge of an elbow while the other was flipped open. Erio breathed in the smells of cracked parchment and age-old ink with a satisfied sigh.

Though his attention had been stolen by his new finds, Erio managed to catch Euthisa’s last words. “Oh…well, I don’t have any more specific needs, I suppose,” he murmured as a finger idly toyed with the cover page. “But you do seem like a very interesting sort of person…much better than that baker I’m supposed to be having my bendi with right now, at any rate.” Erio looked up, wrinkling his nose. “Now there’s a sour apple if I ever saw one.”

“But, as I was saying…who are you? Like, I know your name and whatnot, but tell me about yourself. Why do you work here? What’s your favorite type of book? And why did you get those tattoos?”

Another courtesy fluttered by. “If that isn’t too personal, I mean.”

The book was momentarily forgotten as Erio appraised Euthisa’s reaction.

OoCI assume that Erio can see Euthisa's tattoos, but if this is incorrect, tell me and I will alter this post accordingly.

[Euthisa]

The books were accepted with eagerness, Erio immediately flipping one of them open, breathing in its scent. It appeared as though the boy truly loved spending time in The Enclave, though she wasn't so sure as to how openly he portrayed this fact outside of the building. He seemed to be very much a contradiction, both his intelligence and personality differing vastly from his behavior and age. This one wasn't shallow or simple. He was a masterpiece waiting to be unraveled.

Refocusing his attention back to her, the boy idly made a comment about where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to be doing, only now cluing Euthisa into the fact that he wasn't meant to be in The Enclave at that time. She giggled, his rearranged priorities tearing Euthisa between relating to him and chastising him for disobeying his Bendi assignment. She knew she should revoke the books and send him on his way to his duties, but how could she when she herself knew firsthand what it was like to be so kindred to the written word. As she always remembered, and often said: "Words are written to be read. Every page has a story." The Yasi was much like her.

Taking her by surprise yet again, Erio boldly questioned about her, erupting yet another giggle from the Chiet. She didn't mind though. If someone found her interesting enough to want to know more about her, regardless of who they were, she was in no way about to stop them. "You've got guts, kid. But I don't mind. When I was a child, before getting sent away from my mother, she always had my nose buried in books. She herself loved them, often preferring the written word of travelers and scholars to the spoken word of those around her. I grew up loving books as well, so when I came of age, I started work in The Enclave. Also, I work here because I haven't found a knack for a skill useful enough to be an Avora. Therefore, I am a Chiet instead, and this is one of the better jobs I felt I could do. I love books and stories, a position here was available, I'm good at it, and it suits my caste. So everything works out." She paused, thinking carefully over his second question before answering him.

"My favorite type of book. Hmm... I suppose my tastes are similar, yet contrary, to yours. The book I most often find myself buried in is that of the romantic adventure type, but I love dark stories, full of feeling and intensity, and fantasy adventure or exploration, the tales of faraway lands and times other than the ones we have known. I'm a pushover for sappy romance too, and you can sometimes catch me reading up on our peoples' history from time to time. It really depends on my mood."

Guiding them to the nearest seating, Euthisa took up a chair, leaning back into the soft cushioning with a satisfied sigh. Moving on to his final question, Euthisa gestured to the full sleeve of tattoos down her arm. "This is my representation of Kihala, one of our makers. The goddess of life, she may not be responsible for the world we live in, but she is responsible for the life that lives upon it. We wouldn't be here without her. She is said to have red hair, like Inartans, but I thought this tattoo would appear more like artwork if it wasn't colored. The flowers around her were just for decoration, a way to make it feminine and beautiful, without losing its meaning or purpose, or taking the focus away from Kihala."

Gesturing to the flowers on her lower leg, she continued. "This tattoo is of Dawnsky/Dusksky, whichever you prefer to call them, flowers. I've always appreciated their hardiness to grow at the base of our mountain all the time, along with how they grow to tower over the other flowers around them. They dare to stand out. And their color often is close to the color of my hair, which would make any girl happy, haha. And I had a girly moment with wanting to get flowers tattooed on me." She became momentarily lost in thought, remembering the experiences she had with getting her tattoos, and why. The sparrows in her stomach with her nervousness, and excitement. Remembering how painful the needle was in her skin, but also remembering the overwhelming satisfaction she felt at seeing the finished product. She remembered the first time she went out in public once they healed, and how happy she was seeing passerby's eyes focused on her, on her skin. The compliments warmed her heart, the attention stroked her ego. Each tattoo was worth everything.

[Harrier]

Euthisa

Skills	Amount
Organization	1
Rhetoric	3

Lore

Erio: The Flirt

Erio: Good or Bad?

Finding a book for Erio

Kihala: Responsible for Life

Additional Comments:

(c) abstract