Chapter 15
The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows of Professor Emerson's study, casting long shadows across the room.
Chad sat in a worn leather armchair, his fingers tracing the embossed cover of an ancient-looking tome.
The air was heavy with the scent of old books and the faint aroma of pipe tobacco that seemed to cling to every surface.
Professor Emerson paced before the fireplace, his silver hair wild and his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Now, Chad, I want you to focus on the book. Don't just look at it. Feel it. Let your mind wander beyond the physical object in your hands."
Chad nodded, trying to push aside his skepticism. It had been two weeks since his dinner at the L.A.W. mansion, and these "lessons" with Dr. Emerson still felt more like exercises in imagination than anything concrete. But he trusted Emerson and had promised to be open-minded.
Chad closed his eyes, trying to focus on the book in his hands as Professor Emerson had instructed.
He felt the worn leather beneath his fingertips, breathed in the musty scent of aged paper.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, he began to sense something.
A faint tingling in his palms, a whisper of...
what? Words? Images? He couldn't quite grasp it.
"That's it," Emerson's voice came softly. "Don't try to force it. Let the impressions come to you, naturally."
Chad's brow furrowed in concentration. The tingling in his hands intensified, and suddenly, he saw flashes of a dark forest, moonlight filtering through branches, the sound of running water. His eyes snapped open.
"I... I saw something," he said, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and disbelief.
Dr. Emerson's eyes lit up. "Excellent! What did you see?"
Chad described the flashes of imagery, his excitement growing as he spoke. "It was like I was there, in a forest at night. I could hear a stream or river nearby."
Emerson nodded enthusiastically. "That's a good start, Chad. The book you're holding is a collection of ancient Druidic rituals, many of which took place in sacred groves with water nearby. You've tapped into the book's essence, its history."
Chad stared at the tome in his hands with newfound wonder. "So, this is real? I'm actually, what, reading the book's memories?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Emerson replied, settling into the chair opposite Chad.
"Every object, especially those imbued with magical energy or significant history, carries imprints of its past. What you're learning to do is tap into those imprints, to read the history and energy of an object beyond its physical form. "
Chad sat back, his mind reeling. "This is incredible. But how? I mean, I'm not magical. At least, I didn't think I was."
Emerson chuckled. "Magic, my dear boy, is not as black and white as many believe. It's not a matter of having it or not having it. Everyone has the potential for magic, to varying degrees. What you're developing is a sensitivity to the magical currents that flow through our world."
Chad nodded slowly, processing this information. "So, what's the next step? How do I get better at this?"
Emerson's eyes twinkled. "Practice, of course. And expanding your awareness. Now that you've had a taste of psychometry— that's the technical term for what you just did—we can start working on other forms of extrasensory perception."
Chad leaned forward. "What other forms?"
Emerson stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Well, there's clairvoyance— the ability to perceive events or information about places or people; Precognition— glimpses of possible futures; And empathy— the ability to sense and sometimes influence the emotions of others."
Chad's eyes widened. "And you think I can learn all of that?"
"With time and practice, yes," Emerson nodded. "But remember, Chad, these abilities are tools. What matters is how you use them. The League believes you have an important role to play in coming events, but the choices you make will ultimately be your own."
Chad nodded solemnly, feeling the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. "I understand you have the gift of precognition. At least that’s what I was told. Is that true?"
Emerson's expression turned serious. He leaned back in his chair, regarding Chad with a penetrating gaze.
"Yes, that's true," he said slowly. "I have the gift, or curse, depending on how you look at it, of occasionally glimpsing potential futures."
Chad’s curiosity piqued. He wondered if Emerson had seen his own death. "What's it like? Do you see everything clearly?"
Emerson shook his head. "It's not like watching a movie of the future, if that's what you're imagining.
It's more... impressionistic. Flashes of images, or feelings, sometimes just a strong sense of what might come to pass.
And it's not always reliable. The future is fluid, always changing based on the choices we make in the present. "
"So why is it considered a curse?" Chad asked.
Because sometimes, knowing what might happen can be a terrible burden," Emerson said, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Imagine seeing glimpses of potential disasters, tragedies that could befall your loved ones or the world at large.
And knowing that even if you try to prevent them, your actions might inadvertently cause them to come true. "
Chad sat back, stunned by the implications. "That sounds overwhelming."
Emerson nodded. "It can be. That's why I've spent years learning to control and interpret my visions. To understand which ones require action, and which are better left alone."
"Is that why you chose me?" Chad asked. "Did you have a vision about me?"
Emerson's eyes twinkled. "Perceptive as always, Chad. Yes, I did have a vision involving you. However, I cannot disclose the details. As I said, the future is fluid. Knowing too much could alter the course of events in unpredictable ways."
Chad smiled and nodded, “Like, I might run for the hills?”
Emerson laughed out loud.
“But can you at least tell me if it was a positive vision?” Chad asked. “Or should I be worried?"
Emerson was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "It was complex. Like most visions of the future, it contained both light and shadow. But I saw great potential in you, Chad. Potential to make a real difference in the world."
Chad felt a weight settle on his shoulders at Emerson's words. "No pressure, right?" he said with a nervous chuckle.
Emerson smiled in understanding.
“There’s one thing I have to ask…” Chad said. “What is this catastrophe the L.A.W. was hinting at?”
“Ah, yes…” Emerson frowned. “I had a vision that the Library of Congress had been attacked.”
Chad's eyes widened in shock. "The Library of Congress? attacked? But why? When?"
Emerson held up a hand. "Easy, Chad. Remember what I said about the fluid nature of visions. This is a potential future, not a certainty. And the 'when' is not always clear in these visions."
Chad took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "Okay, but still... the Library of Congress! That's not just an attack on a building; it's an attack on knowledge itself. And on our history.”
Emerson nodded gravely. "Precisely. Which is why it's so crucial that we prepare. Not just to prevent this specific event, but to be ready for whatever challenges may come our way."
"But how can we prepare for something so huge?
" Chad asked, feeling overwhelmed. “Isn’t that where the original copy of the Constitution resides? Not to mention the Gettysburg Address and Emancipation Proclamation? All sorts of historical documents and one-of-a-kind manuscripts? Are you saying they need to be moved? Why would anyone want to destroy history?”
Emerson nodded solemnly. "You're right, Chad. The Library of Congress houses priceless historical documents, but it also contains artifacts of immense magical power. Items that, in the wrong hands, could be catastrophic. We cannot move everything to another location that could be even less secure."
Chad leaned forward, his mind reeling. "Magical artifacts? In the Library of Congress?"
"Indeed," Emerson said. "Hidden among the millions of books and documents are objects of great mystical significance. Ancient talismans, spell books, even a few relics said to have belonged to famous historical figures who were secretly practitioners of magic."
"But how?" Chad asked. "How has this been kept secret for so long?"
Emerson smiled wryly. "The same way most magical secrets are kept, through a combination of misdirection, selective memory charms, and the general public's unwillingness to believe in the supernatural.
Plus, the Library has always had guardians—its own protectors.
A secret society of magical practitioners and scholars who are aware of the magical items and work to keep them safe and hidden. "
Chad shook his head in disbelief. "Secret magical librarians. Of course. Why not?" He paused, a thought occurring to him. "Wait, is that why you wanted me to take over your creative writing seminar? To prepare me for this?"
Emerson nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes.
"Partly, yes. Your analytical skills and ability to see patterns and connections are crucial for understanding and navigating the magical world.
And your writing skills... Well, let's just say that words have more power than most people realize. You can use words to influence others."
“Influence… Bas used the same word.” Chad sat back, trying to process everything he'd learned. "So, what now? What's my role in all this?"
Emerson leaned forward, his expression serious.
"Your role, Chad, is to prepare. To hone your newfound abilities and your analytical skills.
We don't know exactly how events will unfold, but we believe you'll play a crucial part in protecting the library and the knowledge it contains.
I can see that you appreciate the significance.
But do you understand what an honor it is? "