Chapter 10
The Library
DELILAH
Idid as he instructed and followed my little, floating flame friend to the library, even though a large part of me wanted to tell the High Lord to fuck off and retreat to my room. But this mission was important, and I needed to survive the retrieval of the dagger so I could get home to my husband.
I decided that learning as much as possible about this bizarre world and its dangers would only benefit my cause and increase my chances of survival.
I did not want the Fae to go to war and die.
I did not want the dragons to be wiped out either.
But I was not emotionally invested. My sole motive was to get home alive.
If, in the process, I could help save Calpurnia, Aurelius, Gleeda, their home, and the dragons, then at least I would know I had done what I could.
“The Royal Library of Embris” was carved into the stone above the grand doors in ornate lettering.
The heat hit me first as I stepped through. A dry, heavy pressure clung to the air like a shroud.
The black obsidian doors, inlaid with veins of glimmering crimson, swung shut behind me with a sound like grinding teeth, severing the link to the cooler stone corridors of the castle. The scent of parchment and leather mingled strangely with the dry, smoky air.
Upon my first few steps into the mysterious library, I felt an invisible force hold me in place. I could not move a single muscle. After a few seconds, the force released me, as if the library were a living thing deciding whether I was worthy enough to access the knowledge it held.
I shook off the goosebumps from being judged by the library and proceeded farther inside.
The room was vast. Its obsidian walls disappeared into a vaulted ceiling high above.
Instead of a fireplace, like in every other room, a column of magma flowed down the center of the chamber.
A solid stream, like a thin waterfall, cast everything in an eerie orange glow that made the unmoving shadows seem conscious. Their silent stares made me uneasy.
The lava waterfall appeared to be the beating heart of the library. It gathered in a sunken pool, then flowed beneath the stone floor like blood through veins. Its light did not quite reach the highest, darkest corners, where who knew what ancient creatures might be hiding, drawn to its warmth.
Extending into the distance were orderly rows of stacks and shelves filled with books.
Each shelf bore volumes whose covers were made of fire-resistant hide or embossed metal.
I ran a hand over one book, the metal cover surprisingly cool to the touch.
They had to be fireproof. Judging by the way the air hummed with magic, I assumed all the books were protected by some kind of fire ward.
I could only hope that Titus could find a way to use similar magic on me in the volcano.
An upper gallery circled the room, reached by a staircase that twisted like a serpent.
The banister was a bar of heated brass, and I felt its faint warmth even from across the chamber.
This library did not have the inviting, comforting atmosphere I had imagined.
Instead, it felt an armory, intimidating and guarded, as if it understood that the books and tomes it held were the most powerful weapons of all. Knowledge.
I stepped deeper into the room. The towering bookshelves around me began to feel more like a forest than a library.
Then I spotted a circular clearing with tables and chairs. Several ivory candles and lanterns adorned one of the desks, and resting on it was a neat stack of books. I sifted through the titles. This had to be the stack Titus was referring to.
I glanced at the candles and lanterns. I could not decide if they were simply necessary light for reading, since the space was rather dark, or if something else was at play.
The way they were meticulously arranged, and how many there were, made me wonder if there was a hint of romance in the gesture.
What was I even thinking?
The High Lord would never have set this up himself. It was most likely the work of a servant. Plus, I had a difficult time believing Titus possessed a romantic bone in his body. Why would he? It was a business deal, after all. His words.
Satisfied with my conclusion, I turned back to the stack of books.
One detailed the history, laws, and culture of the Fire Fae. Another covered dragon training techniques. One chronicled the legend of the four God Dragons. Another explored the anatomy of the Fae species. But the final title caught my attention first.
“The Sealing of the Six Realms.”
I opened the solid gold cover. It looked impossibly old, foreign, as if it belonged entirely to another world. Inside the cover was an inscription, carefully carved.
“The Guardians’ gift to the Faerie Realm.”
The Guardians themselves gave the Faerie Realm a book? Did they give one to the human realm? And who were the Guardians, anyway?
I lost track of time as I read, as I often did.
Apparently, there were six realms in total, not just the two I had been aware of.
Not only the Faerie and Human realms, as I had originally thought.
The very first realm was Hell, and that was where all souls began.
As you progressed by improving your soul, you advanced to the mortal world, described as a realm stripped of magic.
If you continued to grow and learned the lessons the Guardians of the Realms deemed necessary, you moved onward to the Faerie Realm.
Titus had mentioned this before, but now I finally understood what he meant.
When he had said, “Your kind doesn’t know, do they,” he was talking about natural progression.
Living a full life, dying, and then being born again into a different realm, assuming you passed all the tests from your previous existence.
I wondered why the human realm had lost this knowledge. We only possessed fragments of the story. Perhaps our short life span, combined with our lack of magic to preserve such information, made it impossible to protect books this old.
Then there was a section outlining recommendations for progressing to the next realm.
“Cheating souls will not progress. Lying souls will not progress. Envious souls will not progress. Murderous souls will not progress…”
I leaned back in my chair and blinked as my thoughts raced, the realization clicking into place. These rules sounded eerily similar to the Ten Commandments of Catholicism.
Maybe humanity had once been given the same book by the Guardians. Over time, most of the knowledge was probably lost. And maybe the Ten Commandments were the result of that forgotten text, passed down imperfectly through generations. The final fragment of a truth we no longer fully understood.
The next realm was the Shifters’ Realm, home to an immortal species capable of shifting from a Fae-like form into an animal one. After that came the Angel Realm, and the final realm was simply called Eternal Rest. I assumed it was similar to the concept of heaven, though little was known about it.
That must be how the realms knew of one another’s existence.
The Guardians, whoever they were, had given each realm a copy of this book and the knowledge of natural progression.
It went on to explain that long ago; all the realms were one vast existence.
But because of an imbalance of power that led to slavery, wars, and other unspeakable suffering, the Creator commanded the Guardians to divide the universe into six realms. Species were separated by power in order to restore balance and end the chaos.
So, the Guardians were something like gods. Separate from the Creator, yet responsible for maintaining order across the six realms.
They determined that power had to be earned. Souls needed to prove their worth by living meaningful lives and progressing forward. The six realms were sealed, and now souls could only move between them through natural progression or with the aid of a God Dragon.
Ugh. My brain felt like it was about to explode. I had just uncovered the meaning of life and the deepest secrets of the universe. Maybe it was a good thing humanity had lost this knowledge. It was a difficult reality to accept.
I rubbed my throbbing temples. “I need a glass of wine,” I muttered to myself.
As if in response, a bottle of wine and a glass appeared on my desk.
I stared at them in amazement. I would never get used to magic, no matter how long I stayed here.
“Um… thank you.” I could not believe I was talking to a library, but it was far from the weirdest thing that had happened to me lately.
I picked up the unlabeled bottle and uncorked it, intending to analyze it first. Since it was only mid-morning, it did seem a little early to start drinking, but I decided that was only a rule in the mortal realm.
I poured some into the black volcanic glass goblet and raised it to my nose, inhaling deeply.
My senses ignited. The first scent was dark, overripe cherries and the rich earth of a forest floor after a storm.
Then came a faint aroma of smoke, something ancient and forbidden, followed by the intoxicating sweetness of vanilla and caramel. It was unlike any wine I had ever had.