Prince Fitzroy Takes Over the Narration
Fitzroy Unfortunate’s favorite place in the world was the library. It didn’t have to be a particular library—though he had his preferences—just ‘a library.’ It didn’t matter how big or small, if it was filled with rare tomes or adventure novels, he loved everything about them.
The Traumstead Library was one of the largest libraries in the region, participating in both research and community engagement.
It’d been featured in hundreds of citations, footnotes, and interviews.
Scholars from every corner of the continent wanted to use its collection and add their own published works to it.
Until it’d become one of the first victims of the Grimnight Forest.
Fitz had only learned about it recently, long after it’d fallen to the curse. If he accomplished nothing else on this quest, he wanted to save the library.
When he’d first had that grandiose dream, he’d pictured himself alone.
Nothing against the other champions, he simply hadn’t known them well at the time, and daydreams were a perfect time for self-indulgence.
Now that he was actually alone in the forest, searching for the library, he wished his dreams had been more practical.
As Fitz crept through the forest, the trees closed in around him. Limbs reached for him like outstretched hands. Knotted faces leered at him from within the bark. Eyes watched him from every patch of shadows. The whole forest thrummed in agitation at his trespass.
He ducked under a branch and one of the twigs snagged in his collar. The thin twig broke the moment he stepped forward, sliding down the back of his shirt. A cool, sticky substance trailed after it. Fitz touched the back of his neck and found it covered with sap the color of blood.
At that point, he threw all caution to the wind and started running, leaping over roots and dodging the grasping branches.
Even as his lungs burned and a stitch formed in his side, he didn’t slow down.
If he slowed down, the trees would catch him, and he did not want to find out what they would do with him.
He hardly registered the first building he passed. It was a green lump in the distance, barely visible out of the corner of his eye. More popped up as he neared the city. Unfortunately for Fitz, since the city was the center of the curse, it had more trees.
His eyes widened as he spotted one of the trees up ahead. Huge and black, the trunk was covered with burning red streaks, like molten lava flowed through it rather than sap. A large hollow in the center gaped open. Most hollows were smooth and round, but this one was filled with jagged teeth.
What had the mayor said? Someone tried to burn the trees away, and they came back worse.
Now Fitz understood what ‘worse’ meant.
He slowed down and kept his eyes on the tree as he circled around it, giving it a wide berth. The thick scent of smoke and burning flesh stung his nostrils. He gagged and covered his nose and mouth, but the stench leaked through his fingers.
His back hit something and he instinctively jumped away, stumbling over his tired feet. He turned around to see what he’d bumped into, worried about a monstrous tree seeking revenge.
It was a smooth wall of white marble.
Unlike the other buildings around Fitz had seen, this one wasn’t covered in vines. It didn’t have any trees sprouting from the windows or the roof. A few flowers and weeds grew along the bottom, but no more than expected.
A bright paradise in the middle of a dark forest.
Fitz kept his hand pressed along the wall as he walked the length of it, following the corner around to the next side.
In the distance was a freestanding archway that had once been part of a fence.
The gate was intact, the metal door closed against intruders.
The rest of the fence hadn’t fared as well.
The metal twisted and bent toward the ground like something had trampled it.
Vines and other plants covered it, obscuring most of the structure.
Fitz held his breath as he slowly turned to the front of the building, hoping he’d found his destination. Carved into the stone above his head were the words:
The Eramthgin Library
All Knowledge Comes with a Price
Confusion quickly drowned out his elation. He had been looking for the Traumstead Library, not the Eramthgin Library. Did the city originally have two libraries? He pulled out his map to consult it, but only saw the one. The poor thing must have been overshadowed by its larger, more famous cousin.
Would the others find him here? Or would they all end up at the Traumstead Library, waiting for him?
Either way, he wanted to see the inside. Since it wasn’t on the map, he would have trouble finding it again later. Now was the best time to explore it. He might even find information on the curse.
The double doors were made of large, heavy oak, and Fitz had to press his shoulder against it and use his full weight to open one of them. As soon as he stepped inside and released the door, it slammed shut behind him.
After so many years of disuse, he’d expected the space to be dark and gloomy, but several lit lanterns lined the walls. Someone must have lit them. Likely one of his companions, but Fitz quietly hoped it was a librarian who had valiantly stayed behind to guard the books.
The front room resembled many libraries he’d seen before.
Above him was a domed ceiling, covered with a faded mural.
Only a few colors and lines of the original artwork remained.
To the left was a hallway lined with dozens of glass cases, paintings, and statues, displays of creativity and history.
To the right was a long counter with the card catalog behind it, hundreds of tiny drawers filled with information.
And in front of him, as far as the eye could see, were books. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands, perhaps.
Fitz floated over to the nearest shelf and chose a random book. It didn’t matter the subject, he only wanted to feel the cool leather bindings, the reassuring heft of knowledge. A vague, dreamy smile stretched across his lips as he opened the book.
The first page was blank.
Frowning, he flipped through it, desperate to find one sentence, one word.
Every single page was blank.
He put that book in its proper place and grabbed another.
Blank again.
This time he set the book aside, out of order and out of his way, and grabbed another.
The third was blank. And the fourth, the fifth, the sixth. The stack of misplaced books grew taller and taller in his desperation.
“Fuck!” he shouted and chucked the latest book across the room.
It smacked against the desk and tumbled sadly to the floor. A sign hanging above the desk creaked as it swayed back and forth. In big, blocky letters, it said simply: Information.
Perhaps whoever was taking care of the library could tell him what was wrong with the books.
In the center of the desk was a small bell and a dust-covered sign. When he wiped the dust away, the sign told him: “Ring Bell to Speak with a Librarian.”
He rang the bell.
“Hello, sir, how can I help you?”
One moment he’d been alone, the next a woman stood in front of him. Brown hair pulled into a neat bun, square glasses on a brass chain, and a perfect customer service smile.
Fitz stared at her in shock, then took off his glasses to wipe them clean again. When he put them back on, the same woman smiled cheerfully at him. “Umm, hello.”
“How can I help you?” she repeated in a chipper voice.
“I’m looking for books on how to break a curse.”
“Oh my, what an unusual subject. Let’s see.”
Fitz blinked, and they stood in the middle of the stacks. The librarian scanned the shelves, brushing her fingers over the spines as she read the faded text.
“Here’s one,” she suggested, handing it to him.
Fitz accepted the book. He braced himself for disappointment, expecting more blank pages. This time, when he opened it, a few scattered words appeared across the pages: a, break, curse, for, I, look, on, to.
“It’s blank,” he said, holding it up for her.
She pursed her lips and leaned forward to examine it, then clicked her tongue. “No, it isn’t.”
Fitz frowned and looked again. More words had appeared: it, is. These two words covered the page like little black footprints.
“It’s just a little hungry,” the librarian said, pulling another book from the shelf and stroking its spine. “They haven’t been fed in a while.”
“How can”—he paused, trying to remember the word. Waving the book in his hand, he struggled through the rest of his sentence—“tome be hungry?”
“All who seek knowledge are hungry,” the librarian replied. She looked back at the shelf in thought. “Is this for academic research or are you personally plagued by a curse?”
“We’re dispelling the bad magic in Grimnight.”
New words appeared in the open book before him: are, dispel, in, the, magic.
Glancing over the shelves, she asked, “What have you attempted so far?”
“Still researching. Us traveled through forest,” Fitz began. Something about the structure of the sentence was wrong, but he couldn’t remember what was right. As he thought through the problem, he continued to tell his tale. “Many troubles. Ran here. Plan confront evil mage soon.”
“I’m so happy to have a patron again,” the librarian replied, smiling over her shoulder at him. Long, pointed teeth filled her smile, sharp enough to chew through the books and devour the knowledge inside. As they walked, she plucked books off the shelf and handed them to Fitz.
With his arms filling up, he couldn’t pause to read, but he flipped idly through one and found words on more than half the pages.
The librarian guided him to a group of tables in the center of the room. “You said ‘us’, but you’re alone now. Where have your friends gone?”
“Fled separately,” he explained. “Meet up later.”
She pulled out a chair for him.
He sat obediently and spread one of the books before him.
“Tell me about them while I find more books for you,” she said, her voice low and coaxing.
The longer he talked, the more jumbled and nonsensical his answers became. She asked about his life at home, and the first time he remembered he was a Prince of Misfortune. The second time, he couldn’t remember the kingdom name and said, ‘Unlucky Royal’, though he knew that wasn’t right.
The librarian didn’t mind his disjointed sentences or frequent pauses. She continued bringing him books, and each book she brought was more complete. Some blank spots in sentences remained, but Fitz valiantly read on.
After a time, the librarian stopped fetching him books and asked, “Will that be all, sir?”
Distracted by his research, Fitz made a low, affirmative noise. Even if he’d had other questions, he couldn’t speak them out loud.
All his words were on the page.