Tyler noticed how different the library looked standing in the early evening light. Despite its small size, it felt huge, as if bursting at the seams. The secrets were many, tucked away somewhere in its darkest corner. Tyler felt that way about most things, recently.
The man at the counter made it clear the library was closing. They heard him announcing it on the intercom. As others ventured out, Morrigan strolled in with Tyler following behind. The man approached, but didn't make any attempt to stop them, locking the front door as the last person left..
They wandered the library, Tyler gazing at the wealth of books and Morrigan focusing her search on something very different. She stopped and smiled, turning to him. "Do you notice anything?" she asked, as if issuing a challenge. "You'll know it when you see it."
Tyler looked around, searching for whatever brought on the question, “Books?”
"Look a little closer," she continued. "Focus on places you don't want to look."
The moment she said it, he knew what she meant. Something told him to ignore it, to not look at the wall beside him. The very mention of it made his heart race. He forced himself to look. It took serious effort. It felt like the muscles in his neck worked against him, giving up when he overpowered them.
What he saw was a wooden door. Its brown planks were old, held together by cast iron hinges. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. He looked at the wall before, and the door was not there at the time.
"Where did it come from?" He asked.
"It's always been here," she replied.
:"I've been in here several times, and it wasn't there then."
She shook her head, "Yes it was, you just couldn't see it. Every library has a door just like it. It leads somewhere very special: The first library ever built."
"What makes it so special?" He asked, studying the door, but keeping his distance. The thought of touching it made him squirm.
"It has quite the catalogue, some books being the only copy left in existance. Its a place of power. You're not allowed in, but I helped make those rules, so stay close and touch nothing."
She opened the door, and they stepped through, walking into a larger library with marble floors and high ceiling. The books stacked from floor to ceiling. The shelves look old, so old it was hard to believe they could hold such weight. The strangest feature was the lighting. A bright light lit the entire building, but from some unseen source. There were no lamps, not even torches.
The librarian, whom Morrigan only referred to as "The Librarian," sat at a desk in the center of the room they entered. An artificial human created to oversee the library's basic functions, as well as provide assistance to those who wandered in, The Librarian watched them descend one of many spiral staircases.
The lobby was filled with these staircases, each leading up a wooden door much like the one they entered. A faded plaque adorned each door, the words worn awat and barley readable. Tyler assumed the plaque indicated where the door led to. He heard the librarian hiss under its breath.
She appeared quite old with wrinkled, pink skin and a gray wig. It wore reading glasses that sat lopsided on her crooked nose. It wore a tattered black skirt, and an old cardigan buttoned over a white blouse. It stood up, and walked, its legs jerking with every step. It looked at Tyler, growling as its high heels clicked on the ceramic floor.
The librarian flashed its bloodstained teeth, snarling at him. Morrigan stepped forward, putting herself between it and Tyler. The snarling stopped, fading into a high-pitched squeal as it cringed and shied away.
"Touch nothing,” she whispered. "Follow me." The librarian retreated, but never fell far behind as they navigated rows of bookshelves. The corridors of the library resembled a maze, each shelf containing books in countless languages. Tyler imagined what stories they told, what knowledge they contained. He felt the urge to reach out, only to hear a sharp intake of air, followed by a screech from the librarian, peeking at him at the end of the aisle.
Morrigan came to a small shelf, a row of books that all looked the same. She took one, turned around and walked past him in silence.
He opened his mouth as she passed, took a quick breath, and Morrigan turned. Tyler found her hand over his mouth before he could utter a sound. She shook her head, removed her hand and gave his chest a pat before moving on.
He followed her back the way they came, up the staircase and through the door. They found themselves in darkness the moment the door closed behind them.
"Sorry," Morrigan said in a sigh of relief, "The librarians enforce a strict rule of silence. I can't stop them in that regard."
"Why is it dark? Who turned off the lights," Tyler asked.
"It's closed," Morrigan replied.
"They forgot we were in here?"
"We weren't seen in the first place."
"Candlelight," he said, answering his next question.
Morrigan smiled, "Correct." She took his hand and guided him to the front door. She unlocked it, and they passed through. Morrigan closed the door, gently brushed her hand across the front, and the lock clicked.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Tyler asked.
"Sure," she laughed, "but I don’t have to answer.”
“What's it like being immortal? I'm curious, plus if I can't ask about your past, maybe I can beat around it."
She scoffed, "Why that question?"
He shrugged, "We always paint immortals as tragic. Their lives just go on and on and life gets boring."
"Well, look at the lives they live. They seclude themselves, hiding in shadows or atop vast unreachable mountains." She spoke quickly, the words pouring out as fast as she could say them, "I never did. Life is anything but boring. Think of what I've lived through: Two world wars, a cold war, rapid technological progress, and more." She groaned, "At this point, maybe it's good to know something more about me and my condition.”
“What exactly is your condition?” he asked.
Her eyes flickered for a moment, as if thinking about whether or not to answer the question truthfully, “Blood purification. My knack in the prestige is called Arcana Sanguis, The Scarlet Arts. I helped in the creation of a device. In a very rash decision I hooked myself up to that device. It was designed to enhance one's blood, potentially giving a kind of quasi-immortality. My blood was quickly drained and purified, then almost as quickly fed back into me." They approached Morrigan's apartment, Tyler slowed his pace, hoping she would do the same. After a moment of silence, she did. "I destroyed it, and all the research afterwards. The process was never meant to be that quick though.” she said. “It caused my blindness. It was the single most painful experience of my life.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“She took so much from me. I wanted to take something of equal value.”
They neared the end of their walk, and Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets, “So, revenge.”
She stopped, her muscles tensing up, “Yes.”
“That’s fair,” he said, dropping the issue. “I guess I’ll head home.”
“What? No.”
“You want me to stay over again?” he asked. “I work in the morning. I haven’t showered. It’s not that I don't want to, i'm just-”
“Its dangerous. Besides, you have a car.” She leaned in for a kiss. Tyler eagerly accepted, but she pulled her head back just before contact. She stepped around him, her lips pressed together, but not enough to hide her smile, “and I have a shower.”
He shook his head, “If you insist.” He guided her up the stairs, and entered the apartment behind her.
The moment they entered, Morrigan began clearing her desk, “Sit.” He obeyed, and she slammed the book from the library onto the table. She opened the book to its first page. The book was old, a product of a time long before recorded history.
"The Simplex Arcana," she explained, "This is the only true source of knowledge on the magic that once existed. We distill this knowledge and use it to practice the prestige."
He scanned the pages, “Distill?”
“Yes. This isn't an instruction manual. Magic doesn't exist anymore. It changed at some point.”
He tried to read it while Morrigan waited. He realized he couldn't understand the language of the text. The language contained words chosen from many other languages, some known, others having died out ages ago.
"I can't-" he began, but stopped as the words changed. They twisted, the ink running down and dancing as the words morphed into English.
She resisted a laugh and teased him, "Yes?"
"How?" he stuttered.
"We don't know," she answered, sitting on the edge of the desk. “The book is written in a combined language, we call it Babel. The book can sense your language, and translate itself. It's an enchantment,” The book responded as if given a command. The pages turned rapidly, stopping at a given point that discusses the subject. "The enchantments are so sophisticated, the book could easily be considered alive. It responds to you. Get to know it."
"Arcana Formulae," Tyler said, reading out loud.
“What about it?" She asked, pushing herself up from the table, pacing about the room.
“Manipulating the independent qualities of objects. It should always have three parts: The Source, The Goal, and The Failsafe,” he replied.
“That’s the gist of it.” She said with a cold tone.
“Does this translate to Braille?” he asked. She stopped and positioned her hands on the desk.
“It can.” She went back to pacing, “Continue.”
“The source is what powers an enchantment,” Tyler began. “It’s usually a renewable energy source. The goal, like in all genres of the arcane, is the desired result. The failsafe is some sort of phrase or gesture, sometimes a particular scenario where the enchantment stops functioning, just in case something goes wrong and the goal backfires.”
“Very good. What you just read can be applied to all forms of the prestige. Enchantment is, in my experience, a great place to start learning and teaching since anyone can do it, even without undergoing the rite and its principles are universal." She stopped, allowed her words to sink in, and let him read on his own.
He scanned the words, trying to understand them, and came to a realization a few minutes later, "It's like a computer. You need hardware and software. You can crate the hardware, or alter mundane items, and even alter our own brain and body to suit your needs. Each enchantment deals with the software of an object. It talks about golems, here. If you create the vessel, you program it with reactions telling it how to behave under certain conditions."
Her reaction was not what he expected. She blinked at him for a moment, then began to shake her head, stopping as if unsure of her response. "I'm not sure how accurate that is, but the logic is sound enough. I have never owned a computer. The problem with enchantment is specification. This is why there are fail-safes. It's easy for it to go horribly wrong, just because of a missed detail," she paused, running her hand through her hair before continuing, "If creating a golem you have to teach it how to walk. If it's meant to defend you need to teach it what defending means. More importantly, you want to make clear what is not considered proper defense. Both would need to be worked out and put into the formula."
"Why?"
"Imagine a golem designed to defend your home and protect itself." she said, her hands waiving about to illustrate her words. "It is not designed to protect you. If you command it to protect you, it may see defending you as a threat to itself, and therefore, will defend itself from you. you can see how that could be a problem."
"That sounds dangerous. That margin of error is super slim."
She nodded, "yes. Those who survive the rite use a higher form of enchantment that relies on intent. It's much easier. Half of the battle is getting the idea. If you cannot understand it, you will never perform it."
"Will I be as good as you are?" He asked.
"No," she said, after a brief moment of twiddling her fingers, "I still don't know if you can do anything with this information in the first place. Even if you survive the rite, few have a repertoire like mine. You may end up with talents that are completely different."
He flipped through the pages, listening to her as she continued, "The prestige is determined by your will. Two practitioners fighting one another isn’t just a display of pretty lights. It’s a battle of wits and deception. You dont know what someone else can do, and vice versa. It's one practitioner’s will and creativity against another’s. Your will combined with many other factors makes you more powerful.”
“All right then,” he said, sitting back into his chair.
She stopped in front of the table closed the book, “Read this in your spare time. This copy is yours to keep. Make an effort. I can only help so much.” she turned and pulled another copy from the floor, opened it, and revealed the notes scribbled into the margins, "These notes are like translations. What your reading isn't true anymore. We have to take what we read, apply it, and see what works. We experiment. What works is different for everyone.”
Tyler narrowed his eyes, “That ridiculous.”
“Very,” Morrigan replied, “but that’s how it is. I will ask you to prove you understand what you read. In the meantime, it's late. You should get some sleep."
Wow. You've been productive the past few days, so I'll be a little behind on comments. I like the fact that the library closing had no impact on them. I presume that this side effect was from the Candlelight making him pretty much forget that they were there? I do have one question: will Tyler eventually suffer from the same side effects as Morrigan wherein people begin to start forgetting about his presence? I understand you've not explained how the Candlelight works in full, but this scene brought up a few questions. I also like the touch of interconnected libraries hidden behind powerful Candlelight spells(right, that's what's going on?). Frankly, I love your magic system. It has a nice balance between power and cost as well as being mysterious. Your description of the Librarian is slightly weird. You intermix it with action as well as state what it is despite Tyler not having that information. You probably need to rework it to flow a bit smoother. (You also switch between using "it" and "she" for its pronouns) I appreciate the mention of how Morrigan gained her immortality. Slightly weird thing. You say magic doesn't exist anymore. Previously, Morrigan stated that there is no such thing as magic. You probably want to make sure that you don't have those conflicting statements. At least, not without having Morrigan explain it a bit more. Those are the main notes I had, plus the given reminder that there are some typos that I can't point out at the moment.