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Of Light and Sound, Strange Beginnings

Magdalena Chef

Journeyman
Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
There it was again. She paused, quill poised mid-air and cocked her head to listen. This place definitely had its charms and playing with sound was one of them. Maggy held her breath and waited. Silence. It had sounded like murmuring but you could never tell down here. Strange. She shrugged and went back to writing. Small things calmed her mind like the stiff quill scratching along the rough parchment and the dull scraping sound it made. She liked how she could feel the paper through the pen. Thud! The sound was swallowed by the massive room and now she was curious. Rising calmly and carefully so as not to make noise, Maggy slowly crept towards the northern stacks.

As she moved away from the the small glow of the candles on the table, it became increasingly darker -- darker than what it should be, as if something were absorbing any available light in the room. Now in pitch blackness, she stretched out a hand feeling for the cold stone of the wall and collided with a shelf. Soft, rolled vellum rained down on her head hitting the floor and bouncing away. Ok, at least I know I'm by the maps.

Maggy cupped her hands and whispered the words for light. A small blue flame appeared and danced within its cage of fingers. Swearing lightly she dimmed it. As puny as the flame was, in this inky blackness she might as well have lit a bonfire.

Why the need to sneak around anyway? The small voice in the back of her mind whispered. Her skin responded by breaking out in goosebumps and she shuddered. Cautiously, she continued down the aisle peering into the next one and then slipping into that row. Whoever or whatever it was, it was in the last line of bookcases against the wall. Curling, snakey tendrils of smoke drifted over the stacks and an odd glow cast twisting shadows against the far wall.

Her heart pounded in her ears. Her skin crawled as she crept ever closer. Until finally, she was one row from the source of the smoke and light.
 
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Magdalena Chef

Journeyman
Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
Maggy slowly eased two books off the shelf and peered through. He was a very tall man and the light cast a sickly glow on his face, making him look gaunt and ill. Long gnarled fingers clutched a stave almost as tall as he, and at its end a globe glowed and pulsed with a light all its own. His cloak played tricks with her eyes. The blackest black she'd ever seen, it was like looking into a great abyss. Twice she blinked and had to look away when her stomach threatened to empty itself.

The air around him felt heavy and smelled of burnt reagents-- sickeningly sweet and sulphury at the same time. Maggy found herself breathing through her mouth to avoid the scent. He inclined his head slightly as if listening to someone, nodded, and returned his gaze to the shelves before him. Maggy's eyes widened in disbelief. He was much younger than she initially thought, grey hair and whatever had hold of him, had prematurely aged him.

The stranger reached for his reagent pouch drawing some out and crushing the herbs between his fingertips. There was a small explosion of light and she noticed something she hadn't before – the bookcase was, open? Maggy watched as it slid back into place, sealing itself against the adjoining shelves. The man bent, taking a pile of books off the floor and turned to leave.

She crept to the end of the row watching him go, watching the blacker than black cloak fan out behind him and watching it draw with it all the dark that had filled the room. As he ascended the steps, light slowly crept back into the scriptorium.
 
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