Closed The Ackbar Problem

[Zandelia]

Spring 50th, 514 AV - The Library



The past few days had been hazy ones, filled with as much closeness as could be grasped amidst the need for the necessities of living and working pressing for time and attention. Six glorious days spent trying to define what was the unpredictable. She was still smiling, if a tad tiredly. Wounds had begun to heal now, which meant she could move without real difficulty and had chosen to take advantage of that fact by proving a point to Fallon - Sunberth did had a library. A small, ramshackle and cobbled affair but at least it existed, she was right. It was a peaceful island amidst the anarchy and one which largely was avoided by the populace. Knowledge was seen as dubious, of the past more so. It was better to continue scrabbling and concentrating on silver and gold - or blood. It was something she wished she could change now, it seemed so pointless.

They need to want to improve, to develop and the best way to try, the best ways have always been through teaching. Sunberth may not want to learn but that doesn’t mean that the opportunity shouldn’t be there to do so. We don’t need everyone, just the talented individuals - the game changers. Things were always only ever changed by the few she mused as she made her way slowly towards the old building, through Stumble Alley with slow strides but alert eye and ears.

She wore the eye patch that she had purchased a scant handful of days before on a whim, fingers fiddled with the buckle of the contraption that now covered her damaged eye, soft felt interior and hard leathered pattern exterior - she was still getting used to it but she had decided to change her look. It was a deep navy blue, verging upon the puple,and across the front were three stylized bolts of lightning - an apt symbol. She had been told to look after herself by Fallon and there had been no better place to start than with what she wore. Her garb had been worn for years now, fading with time and almost falling apart in places. It seemed foolish now, as if she had been a miser. She had not, she just hadn’t really thought about her appearance beyond armor. She had not purchased anything more yet but she would, soon. She had another to try to impress now.

“A lot has changed…” she muttered to the world in general as the brush of leather upon stone, scraping, caused her to pause and turn her head in an attempt at detection, she was sure she had seen people following her of late whenever she left the safety of the tent but by whom she didn’t know. She had felt their gazes though, caught glimpses and she was beginning to suspect that the Scars had been discovered despite her best efforts at countermeasures.

Fingers clenched upon the basket handle of her father’s sword…no not her father's. It was hers now. She had disowned him completely, even letting as much of the hatred and bitterness seep away as she could - it was far from gone but she didn’t expect it would disappear quickly. She had held it within for years now and years it would take to dissipate most likely. Especially as she knew he was still alive, somewhere causing harm to someone else no doubt. Her eyes and ears had not caught a scent of him, he had slipped away - to where was unknown. She did know, however, that the building had been stripped of anything of use and the bodies had gone to leave only stains of blood at the memory of their encounter.

Probably dumped in the river, a small gift of sellable goods to the poorest in the slums. The chancers she smiled at that and continued to the door of the building.

She propped her back against the wall and settled down to wait, the directions had been given and Fallon would make her way there whenever she had concluded whatever business she had this day. She didn’t ask questions about what she got herself up to, she didn’t need to know everything and in honesty she doubted there would be blood involved and protection was hardly required. She was a warrior and a mage and could handle herself against the thugs of Sunberth. The memory of the blood flickered and she grimaced, fiddling with the sword in its scabbard idly. At least she could give the woman somewhere to go that was more about relaxation than activity.

She herself had spent countless days ensconced with the dry paper and musty dust. It was a place of serenity and something worth sharing. She waited.

[Fallon]

Fallon picked up the pace, feet quick and light in her strides. Shoulders bobbed and weaved, the curling of lips upon her face whilst she tried to maintain the hard look of a mercenary. It was hard to however, the last few days had left her in a state of bliss and unweighted by the emotions that held her down before. Everything seemed to be a little bit brighter, the world taking on an alluring glow. And it was with such things that ideas seemed possible to achieve - all within reach with the correct methods. Which was probably why Zandelia had spoken about this illusive library within Sunberth. In honest they mercenary was surprised - although she had heard rumours of it she was far from convinced. Or at least until the woman decided to prove its existence.

And it was something that excited her. A secret trove filled with the wealth of knowledge - what more could she want for? Even her Lykata seemed to throb with anticipation to such an dream. Even in among the scum and villainy, a font of such things could still be formed. Even if it was only a trickle in comparison to some places, it was most certainly better than nothing. Anything could be used within this city, it was simply the case of deciding where to start. With that in mind, Fallon turned her thoughts to that of construction and design.

People, they needed people - men of trade and capable of building. Makers, masons, carpenters, men of construction. Before that they needed the funding for the materials and to pay for a labour force - even she knew that none would work for free. She could ask the Scars, but they were few in number and the foundations were still being lain - and thus they would have to change their focus to that of the smaller names, the lesser people of the city. Talent needed to be grasped tightly. Chewing at her lip, she gave a tug at the collar of her last clean shirt - the rest had been ruined through staining or someone slicing it off of her. Fallon gave a sniff, followed by a swallow. The scene was still capable of playing within her head, the tender beats and muffled moans.

A blink, a shake off followed by the rattle of steel within its sheath. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

With the directions playing within her head, the mercenary focused. Her hand rested upon the hilt of the tulwar, her worn coat ruffling slightly in the air. Sturdy material, but barely being held together - soon it would have to change. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Whether she actually would was another situation altogether. With a click and a roll of the shoulders, she gave a duck around the corner and looked at the routes she could go down. The body still ached dully as she took the left and dipped into one of the alleyways, the half healed injuries making their presence known. But, the rest had rejuvenated her and once more left her capable to once more take up blades if need be.

There was another turn, the form brushing past another, a mumbling of an apology, before she came face to face with the entrance of the library. Unsuspecting, she probably had walked past it on several occasions anyway, and if it was not for the leaning form of Zandelia against the wall - who, despite the ragged clothing still looked delightful in her own special way - Fallon no doubt would have continued on her journey.

"Avast ye skurvy Web," the dreadful accent uttered, heavy teasing escaping. Sucking in the air, she composed herself and let the accents of humour slip to that of Bitzer. They were far from in private, and it was because of that she took on such a stance. Gloved fingers slicked back the hair, a push around of the hood and the final brush onto the wool tunic. It was a slight wrestle, a resistance to allow out the personal levels of intimacy and keep them held back until they were in private. Clearing her throat, she gave a polite nod followed by a flicker of a smile, and then a gesture to the door, "So, you going to prove to me now? Or are you going to leave me in anticipation?"

[Zandelia]

She was lost in thought, complex calculation giving way to full alertness as memory vied with logic in consideration of what had recently been wrought. There was little point in denying the truth of the difficulties faced. Sunberth was a roiling sea of depressive monotone colors and two-bit brutality. Proximity to the only building dedicated to learning of a scholarly sort always seemed to cause introspection of a kind. The most weighty of questions was the one that involved whether she was even the right person to try to alter anything. What gave her the right? The fact that there would probably be battles for control and the curtailing of freedoms along the way was a bitter torment. She saw the sense but it was hard for her libertine soul to accept. Sunberth was free, free to damn itself any which way it chose to do so. She had lived in its anarchy and had caused quite a lot of it over the years, here and there. Would she just cause more? She sucked air through teeth, long drawn out squeaking.

Then there was Fallon, the one who had introduced her to such an idea. It was so like her to pick a monumental and possibly impossible task - a contradiction wrapped within a thin blanket of ideals. Not to mention that though the world seemed better for having shared with the other woman it merely became more difficult. Zandelia was a threat to her now, a key into her that she didn’t want used by another. Professionalism was a public veneer but a necessary one but how long until others discovered what lay beneath? What would they do?

How can it be stopped? We are careful, though it is still anew glow. But people are observant and enemies can be very patient indeed. I can’t help what we are but I can’t help the fallout either. Misinformation? Seclusion? What would work? she mused, fingers brushing the broadsword hilt idly still as her partner arrived with a unique greeting as always.

She grinned sheepishly, she couldn’t help it. A small blush flickered across and heated her cheeks. It was a teasing tone, not one of true mockery but it was still embarrassing to have the small step towards looking reputable and well turned out jibed so sweetly. It was a foolish admittance but if the patch was disliked she would probably discard it. She felt younger after a fashion, it was an enjoyable if embarassing acceptance. She looked away to make sure none had heard the words, she would have died but finding nothing the eye returned to Fallon.

“You landlubber Bitzer,” she all but growled, “and I thought it made me look rather dashing. Shame, I’ll have to sell it back lest I be made fun of for all time. I see you found a shirt then, good. You really must take better care of your things” she stated with a tone of innocence.

The alias felt wrong upon her tongue now but she used it all the same - a comforting cloak of protection for the both of them. Real names hidden they could cast aside the invented and flee more easily if things turned sour and bloody. Still, she would much rather talk truly with her than falsely, a strange admission given her proclivities. She shrugged at the questions, taking in the pointed arm and the door. Fallon was excited, she could see it in the bearing and the bright eyes. Though then again she had seemed a different woman of late - something Zandelia took some of the credit for. Or at least tried to. She knew that Fallon had been confident before but now she seemed to radiate, pulse with potential. It was beautiful to behold.

“Aniticipation can be fun,” she let the private jibe loose as remembrance flickered and was pushed away, “but very well. Welcome, to the Library” and with that she pushed both of the doors open with a slight straining of muscle and led them across the threshold.

The interior was exactly the same as her previous visit, dust upon the floor capturing every footprint that passed over the boards and the air heavy, pressing close with disuse. The musty smell and the gloom penetrated by the flickering of carefully placed and hooded lanterns here and there between the shelves and upon the tables. The shelves were few enough but still numbered into a score or more she knew, she had counted them once out of fanciful boredom. Slipping between the old wooden constructs she finished in the centre, past the desk of Remmy - the goggled woman was usually out and about but today nodded at them in greeting as they passed. Tables and chairs they were amongst now, well worn but still sturdy. Dotted about could be seen newer furnishings for the keen observer. She turned and took Fallon in.

“It’s not much, probably less than other cities but…well it’s something. Somewhere to sit and be, to learn and think without having to worry about being jumped by a cutpurse. Brutes don’t come here, not even sure they know where here is” she sighed, hoping the small gift wouldn’t be scoffed at or dismissed, “and now you know I wasn’t lying. Thank you very much by the way. I assume we can discuss payment for the wager later?” the question was a double-meaning of course.

We’ll have to develop our own code one day, if we are going to be playing charades to the world she mused, wondering if perhaps such a thing could be found amidst the worn tomes and dry scrolls of their present location.

“What do you think?” she asked simply.

[Fallon]

That sheepish grin, that look of uncertainty - Fallon had obviously managed to step right within the boundaries of the woman and cause such a reaction. And if anything, the mercenary had found it simply adorable to make her do so. Steps lead her closer, the firm steps of the business mask holding in place as she nodded in response to her working name, "Dashing it is. But you still look like a pirate. Shall we get you some high boots and a parrot to top it off?" and without skipping a beat she continued, "Yes, I have my last shirt - some ferocious, feral animal managed to get hold of the other one and tore it to shreds."

Fallon was buzzing, a gentle rock upon her toes as she stared to the entrance. What was beyond the door ready to be looked upon? There was a deep inhale, excitement throbbing loudly in her mind, full of energy and ideals. A step to the left, and then the right, her fingers tapping a steady rhythm upon the hilt. Soon she would be able to sink her teeth into the present supplied to her, divulging in something she knew she was capable of outside of sword swinging. Research, to surround herself in the literature archives of the city and understand it. Whilst embracing its ways in a physical and social sense was important, so was understanding why the way things were - the history behind it. For that was their way, to look onto the past and learn from it.

A groan of hinges, the pushing open of doors into the premises. Fallon could already smell the dust in the air, the dry pages and old wood as she entered. Eyes flickered about the dull light, a step into the cool maw of the library. For a moment she gave a turnabout, a patter of feet upon the ground as she lifted her chin to the rickety shelves. That creak of wood boards, the scratching somewhere of quill upon paper; sounds she had long missed. Her lip curled and then broke into a grin. It may have been tired and small, but it was a start - and it was such things that allowed growth. When she caught a glimpse of the book keeper, there was only a respectful nod to her before she began her filtering through the tables.

The gloved hand fell away from the blade, the gloved finger tips being dragged across the table surface. Just ahead was Zandelia, leading the way between the furnishings and towards the shelves. There was blink as she gave a second turn about, her gaze looking towards the numerous shelves packed to the brim and nearly over spilling in some places - a muddle of knowledge and notes. And it was because of such things that Fallon was distracted. Fingers wriggled above the spines of the books, her eyes flickering to the dusty tomes and faded names. She was silent, musing deeply even as the woman spoke.

"I... it is good. Very good. Thank you. We can discuss it now if you wish," she gave only a quick glance back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Zandelia's before pulling away. She gave a dip behind a row of shelves and out of sight, a low mumble of words following after her, "Of course... if you would rather save it for later..."

It was a careful finger that wiped away the forming dust, the tip rippling across the worn bindings before she pulled it down. Browsing, seeing what was available, she had to in order to further understand how to utilise the library to its fullest. A blow upon the cover, a gentle flick of pages as she turned it - eyes flickering to the fading written ink in places and the bad scribbling of the common tongue. She was thinking, her brow creasing slightly as she read the few scribbled lines and then promptly returned it to repeat the process once more. She did not really know what she was exactly looking for right then, but soon thoughts began to gather and ideas formed.

"It is... yes. Good. T'is no Zeltivan Library, but," it was with care she placed it back upon the shelf, her eyes glancing back as she continued along the row and then took a stoop, "It shows the nature of Sunberth in writing. A record, a history. Something that you cannot gather in other cities. And that is vital for us." Eyes quickly looked about, a quick wave over and then a tap upon the ground next to her. From the safety of being out of sight and below the bookcases, she took a gentle rock upon her toes and then grasped upon one of the other books to peruse. And all the while she whispered, "The eye patch looks lovely Sunshine. It is very pretty. I look forward to what else you will be doing in the looking after yourself department."

[Zandelia]

“Arrgh, shiver me timbers?” she responded, a small sniff as her cheeks reddened further in both acceptance of the compliment and the gentle jibes, “I’ll take the boots gladly, need new ones soon anyway. The parrot? I get enough things squawking at me to want more. Perhaps something more distinguished? Of crafty?” she let the words slip past her, they weren’t important really just idle fun.

“Well…you shouldn’t let Orvin get a hold of them. Wolves can be so unpredictable I think. Still, new clothes would hardly go amiss. Another trip to the markets perhaps” she slid around the description of being feral - it was true of course, passion had flared brightly, but memories of such would ruin the façade they required to keep.

No, it was better to focus upon the environment, upon the observation and simple enjoyment of both a wager won and the seeping upwards of facets, another facet of the woman revealed more completely. Within the walls now, with knowledge surrounding them, there was shift in Fallon. The excited bubbling wove into careful surveying, the gentle brushes against spines of wood and leather - what there were. The stores were mostly string-bound paper and other simpler creations. There was clearly a reverence from the other, prowling and searching like the wolf she was. Clearly experienced in the ways of the scholar, the blowing and the skimming for what could be gleaned. Zandelia smiled, she had actually managed to do something positive for Fallon - a gift that wasn’t steeped in blood and wrath.

There must be other ways too, to give her peace. She needs it, to help balance the fury within. That feral nature that broils. I can’t change who she is, I wouldn’t try to as she wouldn’t be her anymore. But…I can help with small things, personal things she mused as she looked about the shelving and began her own exploration.

It had been a while, the last time had been the meeting with Matthew and the promise of meeting that had been fulfilled. She rounded the other end of the bookcase Fallon had stepped down, fingers scraping against rough wood dully before she knocked once to garner attention.

“You are welcome Wolf, very welcome. Later is better I think, a promise from a tricky old crone,” she smiled and jerked her head to the left, “if it’s history you want then the section is over there. Mostly written after the establishment of the Syndicates, some of it during. Though I haven’t spent a lifetime reading what lies within the shelves. My interests lie elsewhere but then I don’t have your talents” she shrugged as she turned from the gap and made her way deeper into the shelves as the last words tickled upon the backs of her ears.

She paused slightly at the last portion, it was more of an order than a suggestion she thought and the idea that she could be ordered grated against her character - always independent. Except that she wasn’t now and her position had been neatly proven by Fallon. She breathed deeply and continued the pacing as thought flickered, still trying to come to terms with the new dynamics. It took a scant handful of ticks to come to the histories - the place that she had found her father’s book. Others were within she knew, somewhere hidden and waiting. She wondered if it would be worth the searching, to see where he had become undone and try to avoid the same pitfalls. Did she have the courage to shine a light that deeply into herself? To uncover truths she had hidden out of fearful dismissal?

“Yes…looking after myself. I think I will make the beginning towards it soon. Perhaps I will surprise you Bitzer, or not. I don’t have your innate sense of style I’m afraid. Still,” she brushed fingers across the spines in imitation on Fallon, seeking to understand the mentality through imitation, she pulled out a small book and opened it to read the words, “things change. People have a strange way of effecting you. Perhaps you will start looking after yourself more too” she hummed, a small suggestion that might stick or be discarded. She liked Fallon’s hardened mercenary appearance but something more casual for once wouldn’t have gone amiss.

Not to mention less deadly duels in the dark. Though in that regard she considered herself unable to change - she was a warrior after all. She moved on neatly.

“They are more stories really, not grand timelines of events. Scattered references from people who are probably long dead and gone. I agree though, understanding them is vital. To find that nexus where things changed into what exists now. To unravel it and observe how it happened. To try to trace a path through it and back…to times before the blood and death. If it’s a rough outline you want though I know some things”

“Mage wars, rebellion, the mines. Odd snippets of fact that I have garnered here and there. The arrival of the Knights and the Suns Birth creation. Robern and the Daggerhands and what it was like before. It shames me to admit it but the past is not my forte, the present is where I live and breathe. Perhaps you can do better than me…you are good at that” she sighed slightly.

She had given the gift, had shown the way. Perhaps it was all that she could do but it had been something. Whether she would be of any further use in regards to the Library remained to be seen.

“What would you like to know?” she asked, a simple question posed softly as fingers came up to fiddle with the new patch, pulling into place and making it more comfortable. It felt alien, strange. It would take time to get used to it.


I wish I had all the answers, I really do. It would save her time and effort. Though it would rob her of the challenge so it might be cruel to do so she told herself.

[Fallon]

Fallon continued her perusing, the occasional hum and sigh as she took to the string bindings with great care. Prowling, looking, a shift of weight as she worked her way round. There was only a nod to the direction that history lay, her eyes flickering across to the other shelves and then back down finally to the one she was at. She chewed upon her lip, silent thoughts going round as she flicked on through the pages. Clambering up to her feet, Fallon made a steady pace after her, the orbs settling down upon her frame, "It isn't just history I am looking for. It is other things too. Important things."

There was a long inhale, eyes lifting as she paused to look down the alley. That musky smell, the faint damp in the air of old tomes; there was a curl of the lips, her eyes turning to take it all in. She felt the inner beast fall to that of a slumber and the mind of a scholar begin its steady rise up to the surface. Maddening almost in its grasp for what laid before her. It fluttered into existence, her eyes brightening as she simply looked and took things in. So much potential and calm - peace to the mind and an escape from the world beyond.

She watched the fingers mimic hers, a gentle trace along the spines before she stepped right over. There was only a beat of a pause as she looked through the gap, and then continued so she was almost brushing shoulders with the woman, "You never need a lifetime to read what a library can hold - you just need to know how to filter through the information to gain what you want.." Her gloved hand reached up at that point, lightly touching the hand of the woman. From there she guided it along, the finger tip lowering so it brushed upon what Fallon was actually looking at - the faint letters scrawled upon the spine.

"Don't just look at the books, understand and register them too," She released the hand, and then tapped one of the books - one with a faint scrawling of 'Mann' upon it - "From there you can begin to look at the patterns outside of simple sections, recognise names and titles. It allows the construction of a bigger picture outside of what is seen. Insight? I think that is the right word." Pulling the book down she opened it and looked through the pages, her thumb gently curling it, "You pick out key points, names in particular and from there you trace it down to find similarities and of those mentioned - string it, note it, link it." Lips curled up into a smile, "A web of knowledge and history."

Returning the book to the shelf, the mercenary gave only a nod to the woman a fleeting flicker of a softer gaze, "You are correct on how they effect. It is something I will consider doing - but before that I feel I must... dispose of some things." There was only a moment of pausing as she mused, the forming of a list in her head. At least, until the woman said something that snatched her attention once more.

"Mage wars?" concern was laced within her voice. For a moment she looked upon Zandelia, her lids narrowing down and then promptly easing off. What had they done was the first thing that came to mind, shortly followed by the definition of war. A hum, a trace of fingers wiggling across the spine of the books - searching for a name or title that could possibly help. And then, promptly she froze. The fingers recoiled back, a chew upon the lip as she spoke, "Yes... I'm good at that. Good." She blinked up at the name, then shook her head.

"What would I like to know..." she hummed and rocked upon her feet. Quietly she paced behind the woman, hands clasping tightly, a lean into the woman, "Well. Lots of things. History, a timeline of events and when things happened. Records of the past, how to build things... water defences would be good to know." She whispered in her ear at that point, hot breath exhaling onto it, "What sort of things you would like to have, or how you would like me to look after myself...?" A grin, a tease, and she had pulled away once more, "When did slavery become a thing for the city, why did the mines begin to be disused. Seems to be a good source - but... I'm probably wrong."

Time, it was something she did not have a lot of - she knew that. But if it meant she had to use it up in order to obtain a better understanding and know the city, then it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. Besides, she liked learning, "What do you recommend?"

[Zandelia]

She tilted her head at the instruction, face turning to get a better look at that which was imprinted before her upon the rough parchment. She wished that she had both eyes, it would make things so much simpler and her neck wouldn’t burn with aches so much at the constant straining positions she contorted it into merely to see. Lips curled in a dark smile, she had learnt first hand that you only ever missed things when they were gone, never to return. Once she had hoped tog et it healed but she had never been graced the opportunity. Perhaps it was better that way, a constant reminder of what freedom cost and why you should never let it be taken once more. She inhaled through the nose, glancing at the word ‘Mann’ and then shifting it back to the shelves. Fallon was right, there were a few others either side of the gap pulling the book in her hand out had left.

Clever, neat. Makes it easy. Why didn’t I notice it before? Oh yes, I never took the time. I always seem to be moving, never resting. Always thinking, searching. Perhaps small pauses would be better at times? she wondered to herself as she slowly, gently slipped the book back into its place as before - though less dusty.

“You know your libraries Bitzer, I must admit. A scholar indeed,” she spoke softly, “well I certainly don’t have a lifetime. It sounds like what I do with people, information. A little bit. You gain a fact here, ferret out a lead there, discard the unimportant and slowly you build up a…sphere? I think it’s called that? Surrounding the targets, confining them until it grows smaller with every fact and you hit the center of what you want. Perhaps I should try to apply the principles to the reading?”

“Web indeed…Web…a joke?! You told a joke,” she smiled at the woman fondly, “I’m glad that you are enjoying yourself” she finished, nothing more need be said in that regard.

The question snapped out like a whip, hard and piercing in its earnest. Emerald widened slightly, realizing that such a thing would worry her. They both were mages but her own talent was largely invisible. Whilst she knew Fallon would only overtly use her projection in the greatest need it must still have been a fear - that possibility of discovery. Sunberth was cruel to her kind…their kind. It would only take one observation, one rumor and the spark could be ignited upon the ever present timbers of loathing. She paused her fingers in their tracing, gaze latching upon the words ‘Ordreck and Olfsten: Myths of Sunberth’ as if Lhex himself had intervened. She pulled it down and cradled it in her fingers as she slipped into thought.

“War is a strong word…I know only folk tales to tell you. Sunberth hates mages because it used to be ruled by one so they say. Or one and the followers. Apprentices? Kidnappings, tortures, murders. Experiments they say too. Fear and hate built, apparently, until two heroes came and rid the city of them after much blood and loss. Probably a lot of riots and street fighting too considering the people’s reaction to masters. Here…the two heroes” she stretched her hand out for the book to be taken from her.

“I remember my mother telling me, usually stories of the magic cult taking me away in the night if I didn’t sleep. Or of Olfsten the Giant returning in the city’s need. Everyone knows the name and the tale. It’s why they hate mages…and magic. Rebellion though, we kept rebellion. We believe it keeps us free” she trailed off sadly, the past flickering with fond days at the kindling of the conversation.

She smiled softly, back of her knuckles quickly pressing at her socket firmly before the light mood was ruined by ghosts that lived only now within her heart. She had forgotten, so much had been forgotten. No, not forgotten. Pressed underneath the weights of what she had thought were more important affairs. Now she was no longer sure what was important. Not when it came to her past, her memories. She cherished few, so few. She needed more she felt, to survive what was to come. Something to grasp onto and not let go when things became difficult. Something beyond Fallon, she wouldn’t put that burden upon the woman. She had enough trouble supporting the present. She brushed her fingers against spines once more, narrowing her concentration to the present and what stood before her.

She was so absorbed in pulling up the mental walls that she didn’t hear the pacing, the creaking of floorboards and the approaching flutter of disturbed air. She gave a start when the words were spoken, so close to her ear and with such a purr. The book fumbled in her fingers and she snatched it out of the air with a small huff. She glanced sideways but she was already gone, circling like the wolf that she was. She considered the question as she made a show of flicking through pages and reading intently.

“Yes, the mines…they lost favor because of something so long ago we can’t even remember. I don’t know. A few people tried to get them running again but the fear is great. Dangerous, haunted. They say many things about them and none of them good. You’d need people with tough stones to go into them. You couldn’t use foreigners, the city would lynch them. Then there’s the fact that if you did get them running you’d have hundreds of chancers trying to kill you for them” she shrugged, she had none of the answers only observations and remembrance.

“I…don’t know. I just think you’d do well to have some softer clothes. Something to wear other than the armor and blades. The hair is a lost cause though it flows so nicely, but it might be nice to see some color, an expression of you beneath. I…well it would just be nice to sit in public with Bitzer the woman every so often. Something that doesn’t keep you all inside underneath leathers,” she responded cautiously, skirting the question a little as a curl of amusement flashed, “I suppose that a collar is out of the question?” she snorted into the shelving, shoulders jerking with the low chuckle.

“As to have, I require nothing but what already is possessed. Though I suppose if we ever get out of the tents there would be more to work with. If we ever manage to get that rich that is. Never had a house you know, lived most of my life in tents. Or in the rubble of disused buildings,” she shrugged, it wasn’t important, “as to what I would recommend…learn about the people. What exactly happened to them, why they gave up their freedoms in favour of chains. When, exactly, was the decision made? What caused it? Find out where it all went wrong, when we gave up our true freedoms in favor of the bastards we were ruled by. Find that and maybe…just maybe…we can bring it back for good. But then, I am bias. To me the people are all that matters. Sunberth has forgotten its ancient past, though I wouldn't begrudge the learning of it, and so for our own purposes closer to the present might reveal more” she turned then, she truly believed in the concept of such a freedom.

It was deeply ingrained, through strife and suffering. She didn’t see herself as a good person but she did see herself as undoubtedly freer than most. She would have them free of the gangs and the pointlessness. It was ironic that she would use their own ‘gang’ to try to achieve that goal.

“And slavery is something I don’t want to talk about now. I have far too much experience with it. Later…I will tell you later. When we are truly alone. Then I will tell you what lost me this eye and why I hate them. The whole story,” she tapped the patch thrice, hollow sounds, “but I am glad that you are pleased. I think I’ll have to rent this place out just for you by the way you seem to be moving” she noted the change verbally.

"Remmy offers copying services, so you know, pick out something you like and I'll pay her for them. Probably get myself one too, its been a while. A small gift. We can read by lantern light when we get home one day. Should only take a few days perhaps. She is very good. You'd like her I think" she left the suggestion there in the air, the librarian could help Fallon far more than she could within her realm.

"As for myself, I think I will concentrate upon numbers. Mathematics. For the future..." she didn't finish, it was the ghost of a dream. A plan that would perhaps give the people a way to be more than pawnsone day.

“I can take you to some builders if you like? There are many at the docks who would just love to hear about defenses. They’ve lost much trade and cargo to floods over the years after all” she asked, the question was a simple one. An invitation of fresh air and time away from the past that burned so painfully.

[Fallon]

"It is similar, I admit," she agreed, "But the advantage is that you do not have a time limit to do such a thing. Unless, of course, you submit yourself to one. Try if you wish, you may learn something." There was a snort, her eyes looking onto the back of the books once more, "Yes, I did tell a joke. Enjoy them while they last for they are few."

When the subject of mages came round there was only a chew upon the lip. Zandelia's own power was near unnoticeable - and no doubt would have remained so if she had not revealed herself as an aurist. An advantage in some regards, for it meant that she could divert the attention from one to herself if need be. Physical, obvious, it was clear something was abnormal the moment the arm went limp and hung loosely. It was why she did her best to tuck the limb into something and hold it in place before its use. There was an inhale, the calculations of thought growing and twisting within; the ever present 'what if?' making itself known.

Eyes flickered as Zandelia spoke, seeking correction and enlightenment in the situation. With a tilt of the head she took the book, gloved fingers gingerly turning the pages as she looked upon the pages. That fear, that prejudice, it made sense now - even she had felt the wrath of mages with such tortures. The scars upon her back twitched in reciprocation, the low whimpering of memory playing within her mind. Shaking her head she snapped the book shut, "Followers, Apprentices, Students, Associates... it is all the right context. I... knew Sunberth had distain for mages, but I never quite knew why. I guess it makes sense now. Fear breeds fear. And people fear because they do not understand," she paused, her brow creasing with thought, "Fear of the unknown."

She did not lift her gaze upon the subject of mothers and parents, of things long gone and snatched away. There was no feeling towards it, only the nod of understanding - otherwise it was little more than an alien concept that she could not grasp upon. Care, to be nurtured and looked after. A finger tip traced the cover of the book, and then stilled, "And thus, you imprison yourself in strife and fights, to not grow and form into something more."

Tucking the book under her arm she let the gaze rise and harden, "Then we need to research the mines as to why they lost favour. Everything has a reason and it must be found. Once the reason is found then it must be neutralised and eliminated where possible. Give them the knowledge in plain sight. Counteract that fear and leave it open for them to interpret as they wish. And from there, when it is eliminated, you encourage growth... you insert thought and idea." She scratched upon the back of her neck. It was more a vocal musing than an actual concentrated thought, "The trick is to have a front face and simply be an anonymous funder. But that is just my line of thought." And she was confident that it would pay off, if done correctly.

Stepping over once more she paused behind Zandelia, this time leaning round to her left and blind side. From there the chin rested upon her shoulder, knowing that she could not be seen. And it was from there that the teasing whisper pressed into her ear, "Shall I presume that the other day was a good example of being unbound by such things?" Lips pressed onto her neck, short and fleeting followed by a nip. Tones dropped into a purr, the accent of Bitzer disappearing for a tick, "A collar? I was thinking ribbon. Just ribbon mind you. Nothing else." She pulled away at that point and left the rest to the imagination.

There was only nodding of encouragement as she spoke, "We will get out of the tents, I can assure you of that. I plan on it. I refuse to spend winter camping out - it is a chilling experience. And you... well, you can stay if you wish to, I will not make you." Stepping away she gave a pull on one of the larger tomes, her lids pinching with thought, "I... will be saving for that dream. Among other things." She stopped herself, now was not the time to think about bringing the personal into the world. Such things were dangerous in the eye of the public, even she understood that much. A flick of pages, the faint pattering as she let her lips twitch to the words, "The people are vital to understand. I will try my hardest to learn about them, how they work, what they wish to have and what they would like to see changed. Improvement, growth, I... know. You cannot have a city without people, yet..." she gave a wince, her head hanging slightly, "When we have brought change, when we have turned the rough into a diamond, when we have change the caterpillar into a butterfly... and it is only the Scars that remain," She shook her head, "I will be dissolving the group. The people are important, and must come first. So, unless the masses wish to keep me in charge, I will return to what I do best." She tapped the back of her left hand, gesturing to the lykata that was hidden beneath, "For it is up to the people to decide what they wish to do next."

Even Fallon heard the rattling of chains. For a chime she stiffened, eyes glazing over slightly as she stared upon the book. She remembered the strikes, the fear, the sensation of being strangled in punishment or fun. Her hand reached up to her neck, hovering over it for a tick to check for the iron collar and then slipped away once more. But, it was Zandelia's words that rung the most, laced with a tale and something familiar. A memory deep from the past and something even she herself kept buried. Could she? Was she? There was many hints and subtleties that suggested certain thoughts. And if it was the case then it would be beautifully ironic.

"Web," Fallon spoke firmly at that point, her gaze lifting to stare, "Although you like gifting, can you please stop doing it. You have given more than enough to me already, and I already feel I am indebted to you in your services. I will pay for what I need. And allow me to treat you for a change, it is only fair after all." She left the subject there. Whether or not the woman agreed was another situation all together, but Fallon did not care. Her mind was already set, "Do not ask me to help with your mathematics. It is something I am incapable of doing." And then she nodded, "Builders would be useful. If anything to gain an idea of what they are thinking of. I would like to think they would have a better understanding of what is going on. Yes... please. And when that is done, maybe we can retire early from our working?"

[Zandelia]

“Just so Bitzer, just so. The city hates many things without a reason it’s the curse of misguided freedoms and poorly invested leaderships. The magic though, it fears and hates for reasons that go deeper than even the old stories I’d think. It’s been said that we always hates mages and magic. Perhaps it goes further back but the rebellions are what people remember now, nothing more” she pursed her lips in thought as the book was taken from her deftly. Almost with a reverence she was beginning to see, Fallon didn’t just respect the knowledge, she possibly worshipped it.

It makes sense after all, Eyris…that mark. The abilities. How could she not worship that which she values above all things and the Goddess who saw fit to single her out of the world of mundane people? She is special…favored. I’d be jealous if I didn’t think being noticed by a deity was an invitation for my life to get ripped apart… she mused silently, it was an attractive idea but one which she doubted would come to pass. She held few ideals strongly enough to merit.


“I will enjoy them indeed, perhaps leave some more lined up so you can’t help but say them,” the half-look of innocence before gaze switched back to the book in her hand. She read the spine as she had been shown, fingers brushing the dust away to reveal ‘The Streets of Gold: Heimgrill’s Tale’.

She opened it and blew upon the pages, flickering through the first handful of pages as she applied her own techniques to the written word to see how they would work. Eyes darted, saw the names of both people and places - there were no dates as such more references to current events that might help narrow the sphere if she could cross-reference. It was a story about the merchant names Heimgrill, how he started with two gold pieces and ended up with a fortune only to lose it and regain it several times - apparently. It seemed as much a whimsical moral tale about greed than anything else but the details proved that some of it was accurate. Slang jolted at her vision and she grinned as she looked up.

“Did you know that the Castle Commons was once referred to as Gilders Nook? In reference to the gold I suppose. Interesting. Yes, time is something we do not have the luxury of just yet. But perhaps when we are established we can…focus more upon the other things we like to do” she spoke softly as she placed the book back.

Her techniques were better fro the present, she knew that and had just proven it, but they were of at least some use if Fallon asked for help and she was willing to learn others. She liked to learn things that were useful, practical. The suggestions towards the mines grated against even her own weak patriotism though, she froze as the internal struggle pitched itself and she wrestled ingrained prejudice with reason. She breathed deeply.

“If you think that we can get them working again, for the city, then I am willing to try. But if you start getting on a scaffold and shouting to the people about what’s true I’ll be sure to be ready to fight,” she spoke, words even and careful, “as to the funding…I had some idea. Goldfinger is the main lender in the city. I was thinking, once I got some money that is, of running…competition. I’d lend to people what they needed to improve and not cripple them with repayments. I’d still make money of course but…well have to have money to fund your big ideas. Such high maintenance” she grinned, a theatrical shake of the head.

“I couldn’t be anonymous though, but think of it this way. If I’m the face then it means everyone else can slip around behind me. I’ll focus the enemies, you can stab them in the back. I’m not sure yet, was just a small idea” she shrugged as she paced a few shelves away to grab a book upon mathematics titled - ‘Mathematics: An Introduction to Numbers by Narrick Jolstane’. She flicked through it and found she didn’t understand a damned word and reasoned that was proof enough it would help her develop. She knew enough to note that the format was correct, the calculations she could solve also correct.

“And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel indebted. There is no debt between us. I just wanted to be nice, but this time you can be. Just one for me I think. I’ve hurt my forehead enough times with the art to not want more than one right now” a small squeeze of the shoulder, deep look into the eye. She would have to be more careful in future, choose her times better.

The slipping around, the press of the lips and the purring of the words - the images flickered now with the added ability that she had seen everything already. It made for a pleasant inner-visual and one made all the sweeter for the knowledge that if it had been said then it would happen. Eventually. Lips curled and a small growl before the clearing of the throat. She shook her head, this woman was definitely a minx indeed. She nodded along dumbly to the rest of the words, pushing the promise of scents and sensation back.

“An admirable stance and one they would thank you for. Though only afterwards I think. At any rate I approve of it, very much so. That way if it all goes back to what it was before well…it was given its chance. It can’t ask for more than that”

“Very well, I believe that we are done here and after a very quick visit to the docks I believe that…tea…is in order. Remmy can let you know how much your gift will cost, times and so on. Thank you. I’ll meet you at the door” she placed a small brush of lips upon the cheek and began to move away and towards the threshold.

[Fallon]

"Would it be by any chance the same reason most other places are distrusting of magic and mages?" she muttered, and then brushed the thought away. There was a shrug, "My mentor. He... always told me that people feared mages because of the dangers they could bring. Their power if it fell out of control, if they overgave it was... Deadly," There was a swallow, a tremble. Even she could remember that searing scream shouting through her mind, the on comings of madness within the snow. Pain, agony, the fear that was brought across with it all, the escalating of power beyond imagination. Fallon snapped the book shut and with it the memory.

"I sense you... disagree with my idea?" Fallon straightened. She was curious, she wanted to know and understand what the issue could be. It was an idea after all, and even she knew that such things had to be discussed and worked out with someone who understood the city better, "I do not plan to get on a scaffold and announce what is right. I have a much more effective way of doing such a thing. It's called teaching and education. Fear not, you'll be one of the first to sample it." There was a smile, and then the expression turned serious once more, "But, I digress. What is it that bothers you about it? That it is a break from the traditional thoughts of Sunberthians?" She created a set of scales with her hands, "How about this, what would you do then instead? Leave a potential resource unused and to do nothing with? Or, would you use it and have the income directed back into the city for the people? Or, perhaps a final idea," she paused then gave a point, "Renovate it into something more useful. It would however, still require work to be done to it to begin with."

Leaving the idea where it lay she continued the slow ticking of thoughts, fingers hovering over, "If... I get some of my own plans up and running I will be willing to assist in this competition of yours. I have little need for coin outside of simply saving it or putting it into ventures. And as we know, our ventures will be starting small and far from being big." She frowned, "Perhaps, it would simply just be better to blow the mines up. That way, no one can have them." A shrug, a shake of the head at the somewhat foolish notion - it was a useless idea, she knew that now, "I think, it may be best to stick to the defences ideas for now. Straight forward and noticeable to the community - and does not breed as negative thoughts. I think."

Taking the book on Mathematics, Fallon studied the cover for a few ticks, her brow raising as she mused it over. It was an area she knew little of, and something she had not actively practiced over the years. For a moment she inhaled, her brow creasing into a line, "I... really know nothing of this. Could you... maybe show me when you... have a better idea of how it works? I think it would be necessary. Possibly." She chewed her lip, her cheeks tinting slightly as she looked at the contents within. Even her expression became blank, "Yes. Definitely know nothing about this." A pat of the shoulder, the ruffle of the hair in play. She met the eye unwavering in hold, "Only just this time? Good. Maybe there will be another occurrence in the future."

Leaving Zandelia in a state of stun had proven amusing to say the least. She only wondered what played in the woman's imagination as the subtle growl escaped. With a hum, she kept a firm hold of the books, her eyes giving a final glance around. A nod, a flicker of a curl, she gave a step around the book cases to the librarian Remmy and gave only a nod in greeting. With a gentle place down of the book, it was the tap of fingers upon the top that brought her attention down, "You reckon you can do me a copy of these?"
Remmy gave a blink from behind the goggles, and then down to the texts. There was a careful study of them, that look of analysis as she weighed up how much it would cost to do such a thing. Before finally she nodded, "I can do that. Two books, twenty gold." Fallon began the rummaging in her pocket, fingers curling around the coin purse as she pulled it out. Remmy meanwhile was scrawling something down on a sheet of paper, quick flowing ink of the book titles, the date and then paused, "What name am I putting this under?"
"Bitzer," Fallon replied.
"As in... a mongrel dog?"
"Yes. mongrel dog..." she heard the snigger in response, the sheet of paper being duplicated and then passed a copy to her. In return, it was the gold Mizas Fallon gave her. With a nod, Remmy quickly spoke once more, "Should be done by the fifty fifth. Come by after then."

Folding the paper up she gave a firm stride over to Zandelia and promptly began to tuck it away into a coat pocket out of sight. Later, she would put it somewhere more secure, but until then the coat would do. With a nod, a smiling tease and a gesture to the door, she spoke, "So, flying visit to the docks, pick up some ribbon, then back for... tea. Or, we could just skip the docks, and possibly the ribbon and go... Let's just get out of here. Ladies first."

Purchase :

Mathematics: An Introduction to Numbers by Narrick Jolstane
Ordreck and Olfsten: Myths of Sunberth
Cost - 20gm Subtracted from ledger