guarded the White Court, and took to the abandoned alleys leading north. We walked for half an hour, and finally passed the place where we had saved Shannon from Danar Coinar and Cosia, who had hoped to kill Almheir Bardagoon in the library. There the battle spells had incinerated hundreds of elves, and even if the bodies had since been removed, the place was a wreck. Walls of the mansions had fallen, pillars toppled and broken like child’s toys, the cobblestones torn up across the whole square. The ancient fountain still spewed water, and I stopped there to drink greedily. I looked up to the library, a squat, towered white building of immense. The pennants of the Safiroons were still fluttering on top of it. The dead had removed most, but not these ones. “Why?” I asked Ittisana. “Why can’t commoners go inside?”
She sat down and ladled water to her fanged mouth. “If Shannon forced the draugr to, then they would, but they are afraid of it. The library is the work of generations of Regents, and only those who can See the Glory can be trusted to treat it and the tomes respectfully. They say most books are covered in gold and silver, and even in Aldheim riches tempt the poor. So, only the highest nobles were allowed to delve into the mysteries of the great library. The draugr, though tempted by the riches, won’t go anywhere near it. They slink away, stand in front of it, skulk around it at night, but they are slaves to their past.” She looked up at the place with a squint. “I think Shannon’s happy to keep them out of there. There is a well of knowledge to be studied, and she always loved such stories, didn’t she? She doesn’t trust the draugr to move them to the Citadel.”
“Let’s do it, then,” I said. We trekked away from the destroyed battleground and across pristine courtyards, silent spaces of beauty where human and elven life had thrived. There were toys scattered in the corners of elaborate playgrounds, craftsmen had dropped their hammers and tools across the street called the Crafter’s Run, and there, the Safiroon arms factory had been left burned, a gigantic smithy called the Pride of Soot. It was all quiet now. We got close to the library and hiked through fantastic alleys, filled with statues and brazen colors and subtle details everywhere, and that horror was only challenged by the rotting corpses, hundreds of dead left by the draugr on one particularly wide courtyard.
“What the hell—”
“Shit,” Ittisana agreed. The dead. They had been positioned as if they were alive. They were rotting, hacked and ripped, but seated and left leaning on walls, their hands grasping their partners in a grisly scene that resembled a feast. There were many human children there, dead the lot of them. The draugr had created a joke, or art, and I cared not which it was. I fought the need to pull Iron Trial out and go hunting for the creatures.
And I fought for this? For Hel? Ittisana pushed me on, and Thak looked down . Did they have any misgivings? Probably not.
I shook my head, hardened my heart for the time, and we took the final stretch for Haven. There, the draugr started to show up. Occasionally, we saw some of them squatting in the doorways, having claimed a house to loot, a temple to search for treasure, and they truly coveted it, since I saw three such dead elves utterly mesmerized by a chest filled with silver, hardly noticing our passing. Thak drew his mighty sword, the sword of a jotun, a dverg - crafted weapon that would grow or shrink with him, and I was happy he was there.
Finally, we had reached the steps of the library.
The portico that guarded the gate was shaded and coated with gold, and as we walked the steps, I could see the windows were adorned with jewels, sunk into glass in artistic patterns. Vines grew wildly along the white walls and the squat towers. We reached the fine, red doors, and Thak shrugged and pushed them open without any ceremony.
Inside, silence and
She sat down and ladled water to her fanged mouth. “If Shannon forced the draugr to, then they would, but they are afraid of it. The library is the work of generations of Regents, and only those who can See the Glory can be trusted to treat it and the tomes respectfully. They say most books are covered in gold and silver, and even in Aldheim riches tempt the poor. So, only the highest nobles were allowed to delve into the mysteries of the great library. The draugr, though tempted by the riches, won’t go anywhere near it. They slink away, stand in front of it, skulk around it at night, but they are slaves to their past.” She looked up at the place with a squint. “I think Shannon’s happy to keep them out of there. There is a well of knowledge to be studied, and she always loved such stories, didn’t she? She doesn’t trust the draugr to move them to the Citadel.”
“Let’s do it, then,” I said. We trekked away from the destroyed battleground and across pristine courtyards, silent spaces of beauty where human and elven life had thrived. There were toys scattered in the corners of elaborate playgrounds, craftsmen had dropped their hammers and tools across the street called the Crafter’s Run, and there, the Safiroon arms factory had been left burned, a gigantic smithy called the Pride of Soot. It was all quiet now. We got close to the library and hiked through fantastic alleys, filled with statues and brazen colors and subtle details everywhere, and that horror was only challenged by the rotting corpses, hundreds of dead left by the draugr on one particularly wide courtyard.
“What the hell—”
“Shit,” Ittisana agreed. The dead. They had been positioned as if they were alive. They were rotting, hacked and ripped, but seated and left leaning on walls, their hands grasping their partners in a grisly scene that resembled a feast. There were many human children there, dead the lot of them. The draugr had created a joke, or art, and I cared not which it was. I fought the need to pull Iron Trial out and go hunting for the creatures.
And I fought for this? For Hel? Ittisana pushed me on, and Thak looked down . Did they have any misgivings? Probably not.
I shook my head, hardened my heart for the time, and we took the final stretch for Haven. There, the draugr started to show up. Occasionally, we saw some of them squatting in the doorways, having claimed a house to loot, a temple to search for treasure, and they truly coveted it, since I saw three such dead elves utterly mesmerized by a chest filled with silver, hardly noticing our passing. Thak drew his mighty sword, the sword of a jotun, a dverg - crafted weapon that would grow or shrink with him, and I was happy he was there.
Finally, we had reached the steps of the library.
The portico that guarded the gate was shaded and coated with gold, and as we walked the steps, I could see the windows were adorned with jewels, sunk into glass in artistic patterns. Vines grew wildly along the white walls and the squat towers. We reached the fine, red doors, and Thak shrugged and pushed them open without any ceremony.
Inside, silence and
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