Hall of Shadows [The Celestial Chronicles #2]

Chapter Forty-One: Raid

"I have not learned the things I wished to know,

the things I wished to say remain unsaid."

- James Mcauley, "The Inception of the poem"

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Soundtrack of the chapter: Call to Arms by Two Steps From Hell

Media: The Ancient

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Chapter Forty-One: Raid

One day ago in Emareth...

Not for the first time, Day nodded off during work. He caught himself before he fell off his high chair by grabbing the sides of the smooth mahogany table. He gave himself a hard pinch on the arm, chiding himself for laying off on his job again.

It's not your fault, his subconscious hissed. Amueh has been giving you the most tedious job among his apprentices. No one would be willing to patrol the Library of All after dark.

The young Stellium shook his head. His beautiful pale hair came to rest like a halo around his shoulders which he gathered and braided them neatly with his trained fingers. He ran his eyes over the many unorganized scrolls shipped from the Hall of Games and the number of unchecked book lists he had to put back into the shelves by dawn. He groaned, a sound which would have earned him a look of disapproval from his master-Amueh.

"Focus Daeguar!" he said out loud, his crisp voice ringing through the vast, labyrinthine corridors of the Library of All. A cold wind tilted in from the open windows, whisking the curtains aside. He shivered, drawing his cloak tighter around his body. Another reason he did not like taking night shift was partly because of his vivid imagination. A single creak would scare the daylights out of him and the slight howl of the wind was enough to make him cower, prayers spilling from his lips.

Nevertheless, he steeled his nerves and went over to shut the great windows. It was a heavy task, for the windows were gigantic. When it was done, Day returned to his seat by the table, picking up his quill and continued filling up the log books with his neat, swirly handwriting.

A loud thud jerked him out of his momentum, causing a large ink blot to spread through the parchment. He cursed. Another crash sounded, the cacophony ricocheting like thunder through the entire library.

His hands flew automatically to the Celestial Blade he always had ready by the table (to prevent any form of possible attacks, for he was beyond paranoid).

His sharp ears perked, scanning the silence. A low guttural moan sounded, followed by harsh whispers in another language Day had never heard.

Day had studied over twenty languages in his years as an apprentice. No other language was foreign to him, not even the ancient Decanate dialects. Curious and scared at the same time, he debated whether he should venture down those dark corridors, twisting in the maze of towering bookracks and lightless corners.

The voice whispered again. Curiosity triumphed and he grabbed a Celeslight lamp by his table. He eased himself off his seat, planting his bare feet onto the cold polished wooden floors of the Library of All. Sword in one hand and the flickering lamp in the other, he took small cautious steps toward the sound.

Amueh had told him moans in the library were completely normal, for the restricted parts of the library held ancient creatures prisoner.

But this voice, this voice speaking in another beautiful language made his blood sing in eagerness. He banished whatever warning Amueh once gave him and continued moving forward.