Chapter 1- Scene 2

            Row after row of books stretched out in front of Aleister. He labored along with a tall stack of more books that obscured his vision. Sweat trickled down his face and hair stuck to his skin in tufts of brilliant red. It was always several magnitudes hotter in the Hall of Old Records than it was outside, but that never bothered Aleister. This musty building was his sanctuary. Here there were escapes to a great many places, stories of far off lands, of cultures and peoples long dead.
            He turned a corner, hooked his foot on something and went sprawling out onto the floor. A rain of books clattered down loudly in the heavy silence and echoed throughout the halls. He grunted and slowly pushed himself up. His head was spinning in circles. It took several moments before he became aware of the laughter that surrounded him.
            “You poor librarian, worked so hard you can’t even walk right!” Standing above him were three girls, all dressed in Phel’garian fashion. The one who spoke, Dulia Hass, stood with her fists on her hips and laughed. She was a portly person, with the loose hanging, white silk robes billowing about her person like the sail of a great ship. Her short hair, lightened to an almost blonde as many Destarians did to emulate the fair features of the Phel’garian, emphasized the fat under her chin in a most unflattering manner.
            To Dulia’s left was the tall, well-built Hesere Levar. She stood with a smile, but was as quiet as her black hair was straight. She was olive skinned and would’ve been an attractive girl if not for her strange attitude. She obsessed over defeating Ursta in a duel, but could never achieve it. The truth was that there were very few who wielded a sword that could best his longtime friend.
            Slightly behind the two of them was Nans Bromte. She smiled as well, but hers did not seem genuine. Her large, light green eyes were widened a bit as if in surprise. She had always treated him strangely, sometimes friendly and others with outright hostility. Generally speaking she was more hostile when others were around, especially Dulia.
            He ignored Dulia’s taunt and began to gather up the scattered books. It would be a shame for them to get damaged for such a reason. Many of these particular books were beyond old; one of the books was even an instructional tome on the ancient language of the magi, Ashannian. He had taught himself how to read Ashannian many years ago, when he had been confined to the L’Conte manor most days. From what he understood, there were few who knew about the ancient language, let alone could read it.
            “Obviously the librarian knows her place,” Dulia grinned widely, “so she doesn’t speak to her betters. Wouldn’t you agree, Nans?”
            “I think,” Nans paused for a moment, pulling on her tight braid of auburn, “that we should hurry off. We have more important things to do than pick on useless librarians.”
            “Oh ruin the fun why don’t you?” Dulia frowned and shot a glance back at Aleister. “Fine, I won’t bother wasting my time on her.”
            Before she left, she stepped on the back of his hand and ground her foot in. Her face was puffed up and red; it seemed to Aleister that she had wanted to do more than she had. As they left, Nans looked over her shoulder at him; her eyes were softened and watered a bit.
            With a heavy sigh, he finished gathering the books then took a moment to rub his hand. The library, or Hall of Old Records as the Phel’garian occupation called it, was largely empty this day. It did not surprise him much, there were few enough visitors even on the busiest of days. According to what he had read, it was surprising that the invading army had not burned the library down. When they conquered a territory, the Phel’garian army destroyed the individual culture and executed all the male nobility and religious leaders publically. Such was done with his father and would’ve been done to him had his mother not taken great care to hide him.
            He was glad this place had been left unscathed, even if his father had not been. He often spent more time here than he needed to, reading or just generally admiring the building itself. It was massive, at three floors high, and made of intricately hewn and placed, dwarven stonework. The bookshelves were made of oak from a distant forest, Yake Forest was almost two weeks ride away from the grasslands of Destaria, and masterfully wrought bronze. Tomes of various sorts lined the bookshelves in the thousands, ranging in size from hand held books to massive things that could not be held by two people. This library was rumored to be the second largest in the known world, only dwarfed by one that had been lost to the ages.
            As he drifted off into thought about the library and books, a feeling of forgetfulness nagged at the back of his mind. Almost an hour later, he realized why. There were a few books that had been borrowed by some of the guardswomen, and it was his duty to have them back tonight. The mistress would have his hide if they were still missing tomorrow. With a start, he scurried off out the door and towards the south gate of Valis De.

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