My Wish at the End of the World

Next to a Wooden Hut

CW Brief mentions of fire

I'm pouring over the open book on local legends, a compilation made by a scholar only two decades ago, one of the latest who took the legends seriously according to John, so it's up to date and took the legends seriously, so it most likely will at least note the more extreme and obscure information, and does have pages upon pages of notes and theories and ideas on references to other legends. Unfortunately, this does mean that it takes into account every local legend, and since little was known on the city before the fire it widened its pool to the entire desert region, whether or not it could be traced back to that time or this city, and takes into account every retelling, misinterpretation and regional difference, anything that could have changed it.

It's nearly 500 pages long, so it might take a day or two to fully comb through. I read quick.

Ether is in one of the rooms downstairs, still asleep since it's barely after sunrise and she's still recovering, so I have to kneel on a bench with the book on the windowsill to get good lighting, which isn't terribly comfortable.

Currently, the only useful information I've seen is the reason why the investigation has gone on so long, which is simply that a large portion of the information on the time contradicts itself, whether or not it is in relation to the legend. For instance, trade records alternately show either a large trade presence in the city, befitting of a castle, or simply an unimportant outpost. Nobody can gather enough evidence for anything regarding this city one way or the other, so the majority of scholars chalked it up to either one side making up evidence, or this simply being an under documented area, possibly with a separate, undiscovered castle with the same name. It's been basically decided that it's impossible to know, so the general consensus is moving towards it needing to be dropped.

I yawn, and blink, looking out the window. I'm on the second floor, facing away from the main plaza with the fountain, so I can see the flat roofs and the space in between buildings. There's wildflowers, open spaces and clotheslines occupying areas in between wreckage and houses.  Already there are children playing amidst the fields and flowers, running around and picking wildflowers. Past the houses, fields and wreckage is the wall, which is about three stories tall, highly weathered and in places crumbling.  There are three people on the wall, silhouetted against the light. They've been there an hour, maybe more, lovers on a morning tryst.

"What are you doing reading this early?" John asks, coming up behind me, his cane lightly tapping against the ground with a steady rhythm out of sync with his footsteps.

"Just doing some research," I say, making a small note in the margins of my notebook and turning to see John standing there holding the book he's reading and leaning on his cane. "I've been interested in the burning castle for a while."

"Just a simple little interest?" he says unbelievingly and sits on the bench next to me, sighing, a small smile worming its way onto his face.  "I gave you a list of more than 10 books, and you chose the one that's the most difficult to get into."  I nod and shrug.  "Not to mention, both of you said you had no money last night. I can provide the rooms, but not food, and I'm nearly certain neither of you have any work to make money."  I shake my head vigorously.

"Storytelling is my trade," I say, looking over to my room where my book of stories is in my bag.  "I can make enough for us once I find a place on the street."  John's smile fades and he suddenly seems more weary.

"I wish you good luck," he says, shifting and tapping his fingers on the cover of his book absentmindedly.   "The people of this town may not be the most likely to give away their money to outsiders, storytellers especially.   We've heard enough stories over our lifetimes, as I'm more than sure you're aware."  I shift, somewhat uncomfortable and assume a normal sitting position on the bench.