Library of the Stars

[AgentofDeath13 456]

Library of the Stars

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[!] A gaze within Liber, the library which holds all.

 

Liber | The Universal Archive | Documentation, Knowledge, and Organization

A plane comprised of an ever-expanding, ever-organizing library of the works of the polyites of Mechina of Garumdir’s making; when the mechanical mathematicians leave their plane to venture into others, the heaping loads of tomes they fill with useless and useful information, pointless and rare histories, and other such texts, volumes, grimoires, and books of all kinds of the entire universe and its many planes, including the secrets to its deities and most potent rituals, however, these books are lost amongst the eternal library of dirt weighs and the percentage of which cocoa is best served with milk. This plane is adjacent to Mechina and Fabul.

The Search in the Name of ‘Mercy’

 

“Guide me, Lords of Balance, Lord of Order…” Those words rang out and resided within his mind but were soon overtaken by the sound of howling winds that masked Cernuno’s disappearance into another realm. His eyes would open and he would find himself within a grand foyer of sparkling stone that seemed sprinkled with the imagery of gleaming constellations that shifted along with his movement. With squinted eyes, Cernuno would rise carefully and check the rucksack that was slung over his shoulder, to assess that all of his things were there. 

 

After a few moments of silence and dust-filled breaths, the lad would begin his trek forth through the foyer, his steps rhythmic but unsure. Yet despite the uncertainty, his paces persisted as he moved further in until a large wooden door was reached. The door itself was nothing special, but it was of such a size that the ‘ame seemed miniature in comparison. A gloved palm would be placed flat against the wood and the entrance would fade into a myriad of paper sheets that fluttered off and landed in tidied piles on nearby shelves. With the door gone a great living library was revealed, one that had no observable end, the ceiling itself a painting of the heavens and a golden court. Great shelves lined both sides with scrolls and books layered and stacked upon each other until they all rested on the edge, those worn and tattered pages in danger of falling from their great heights. “So much to learn, but if my Lords led me to these halls then I know what must be done…” With those words of reassurance to himself, he continued forth, his eyes scanning and hands brushing the spines of every text that he could reach on his journey through. The deeper into the passageways of knowledge he made it, the more the floors beneath him seemed to shift and sway with life and vigor. Shelves and books flew about in circles making a labyrinth of halls that surrounded a room. Yet at some point, he stopped when his eyes befell a familiar name flying past him, and so his hands shot out to grasp a book from the air, “She just told me about this there’s no way it’s here…” Within the elf's nosy mitts rested Amelia’s Diary, a book which he most certainly shouldn’t take, but one he pocketed anyways before moving onwards towards the center.

 

Through those expeditions down the halls, Cernuno stumbled upon a chamber with its door left ajar, where frigid winds blew out from it into the corridors behind him. After a few moments of hesitation, he steels his resolve and looks within, his head prying in through the frame without a sound while his eyes gazed upon the marvel that he found inside. His eyes fell onto the great room with a machine at its center, one that magnified the view of multiple distant planets. Its ceiling held a beautiful machination that made a steel sun and moon revolve around the room. A ticking filled the chamber as it counted down every hour that passed in Almaris. Yet those hours came in the form of seconds as time flows differently there. At the center stood a large masked being made of steel whose gargantuan talons moved great orbs of light around. His back was to the door as his digits shaped those globes. His claws expanded and rearranged their orders before placing them above, and with each action, the library outside moved in response. His voice would resound as he spoke and addressed the newly arrived elf who gawked at his work. “Ah, how quaint. A new visitor, tell me, boy, I’ve become rather bored here. What do you believe to be the most valuable piece of work in this library?” A gentle hum comes from the elf’s cords as he steps into the room. His voice is low in tone yet firm as he addressed that being. “Is it…  the laws of the gods, maybe…?” His response is met with silence, and a grating sound fills the room as the Curator turns with a great tome in his hand, its spine as large as Cernuno’s own body. “Hmm, but what makes something valuable? Is it rarity, or maybe the knowledge it contains?” Another pause and another rushed hour pass before Cernuno responds.“I must admit I do not know the answer llir. Is value not subjective? The result of one’s personal beliefs and feelings?” Gilded steel hands rise and come together to clap, shining appendages ringing like great bells as the curator looks down upon the elf with a smile. “Very good, very very good you have some brain in you after all… it is indeed subjective, and because of that, not a single page in these halls has a greater value than any other. Every recipe, tome, and page is the focus and dream of someone at any given point in our cosmos… Even you… you have come for something… have you not?” Nothing but a pause came from Cernuno, his frame shifting back in hesitation as he struggled to decide why exactly he had gone there. This slight bout of amnesia would surely be the first of many to come, but before his mind can remember any words or reasons to offer or say, that masked figure laughs and speaks, his voice growing to boom amongst the walls and bombard the elf from every direction. “Do not fret, you have humored me, heard my voice, but have not seen my face. I’ve decided to grant unto you a gift, the gift of knowledge to lead you to that which your heart desires. It has been so long since I last had a visitor, SO SPEAK, CHILD.” At the sound of those roaring words, Cernuno flinched and stumbled back falling onto the ground. The lad then spoke and answered as best he could, tidbits coming to him in passing, so as he spoke he remembered more and more. “I… I’ve come here looking for a solution, a hint… to an issue at home… A friend I care about deeply is the victim of long-lost sanguine magic... We have found no way to ease her plight or free her from it. So I’ve come to see if I can find something… anything to aid in the process.” The Curator hums and nods as he begins to pace towards Cernuno, his form shrinking with every step as the sound of winding gears is heard. He stops once he stands before the elf, helping him rise from the ground before looking him in the eyes. “You have come here… risked your life, your mind, and your very soul to find something for this girl... The courage is admirable, or maybe it’s stupidity rather. I may never know despite being surrounded by all this knowledge…” A pause comes for a moment before the Curator continues and gestures to the door, his mechanical limb guiding Cernuno along with him. “Emotion is something that math cannot account for. It is the ultimate wildcard in the universal game of numbers… I will never fully grasp it, but you friend, do what you need to. Head down the passage I will open, it will take you to the steps that lead to the deepest depths of this library. A place where nothing moves and rot festers amongst the pages. I can open that path but once you descend the rest falls upon you. There is nothing more I can do…” a silent and solemn gaze is exchanged between the two as they come to terms with their misunderstanding, the knowledge that they will never know what each other meant bringing them some strange satisfaction in the end. But before Cernuno departed he spoke one last time. “This is more than enough sir… ahernan. I have faith in myself, I know I’ll find something. Otherwise, I’ll refuse to turn back even if it costs me everything...” At that, he turned and proceeded to pace forth with security as aisles, shelves, and walls bent to the curator’s will and made way for Cernuno, his path opening with every step. Yet every step grew dark and darker as he descended and the entrance behind him was sealed.

 

Down winding halls filled with cobwebs, and absent of light the wood elf searched for anything that he could find on the ichorian magics. He was met with disappointment at every turn as he found nothing for hours upon end, only ash and tattered leather from books long since forgotten. Every room was empty with only the occasional candle or shelf adorning its walls, this was the case for most of the halls as well. Darkness was the only thing that accompanied him, or it was until he wandered upon a fountain of ink in the center of an otherwise empty room. Upon his entrance, the door behind him faded from existence, candles beginning to flicker and light floating in the air spiraling towards the pooling substance. There was nothing to do except pace forward and so the ‘Ame did. He moved until he came to a halt by the edge of the fountain and gazed in where he was met with his reflection. His body grew stiff and immobile as he gazed upon his mirror image. His mind remembering his trip to Louj would scream at him to run, but before he could turn and find a way a set of blood-stained hands reached out and took hold of him, dragging him underneath. The last thing he could see before he was dragged below was… himself standing where he used to be. More and more bloody hands grasped at him and pulled him further under while ink filled his lungs and all went dark. After some time his lips would sputter and he would awaken on the floor of an unknown hall. That fountain that had brought him there was hanging from the ceiling, none of its ink pouring onto the floor. As he rose to sit up he would find a corridor before him, one that sprawled out all around him and led into a room that was barely lit. After finding that forsaken passage where the knowledge came to die, the flickering lights and polished glass mirrors brought forth a great trauma from within Cernuno. Madness descended upon him like a predator in the night, one which had its sight on prey. Sweat would cake him, and fear took its hold as every step further was a step deeper into the pool of hysteria. With coldness and dismay, the elf makes his way to the darkest depths of those halls. There was no movement, there was no life, nor light. All was still as the shelves did not advance and no breeze blew through those aisles that line the floor. His boots dragged themselves along as his world became hazy and he continued until he entered a new room. A series of skeletons remained seated around a great table carved of stone and dragon's bone. Scrolls and tomes lined the bodies of each of those deceased, and elements floated about them in a beautiful dance, a blessing and the first sign of beauty granted to him since his descent. The ends of the table are where his focus remained. On one end flowers and leaves floated about the corpse adorned in verdant linens and leathers, while on the other blood and blackened bone floated about an empty seat. All that remained at each end was a single item. At life’s end was a set of robes but at the end of death sat a skeletal hand clenching a note atop a burned and ichor-stained scroll. Cernuno strode over first to the side of life and picked up the robes. They were simple yet beautiful monastic robes with depictions of life upon its back. With the robes in hand, the lad contemplated to himself for a few moments in silence before placing them in his rucksack and pacing over to the severed hand. As he approached the area he could feel plague seep into his bones, his vision fading with every step towards the hand that he took. As he finally reached the end of the table he slumped into the empty seat and leaned forward resting his torso against the surface. He would lift the scroll that his eyes could barely read and scan its contents until he realized it was what he had been searching for the entire time. It was a torn page of notes detailing a specific Ichorian spell, most of it was illegible due to the ink having faded away from time and due to some damage from blood spots on the paper. After scanning its contents, Cernuno rolled up that paper and pocketed it before turning to that skeletal hand. The appendage was balled up into a fist and within its grasp rested a note. So despite the plague that seeped into his body and weakened his breaths he remained seated and proceeded to take the note and look it over. His mind memorized what he could before he pocketed it with the severed hand. Minutes passed fading into hours before Cernuno would then rise, shakily and heavily from the seat, his body slowed as he was filled with illness. He would begin to pace back towards where he came from with a hand on the table for aid before he felt something go wrong.

 

The wood elf would come to a halt just as quickly as he began to walk. A feeling like lightning striking him would cause his body to keel over and roll into a ball as his protective ward was removed. The salt circle having been disrupted would cause his mind great pain, and bring the rest of the realm itself to shake and roar as it was alerted to his presence. The thundering of distant footsteps came from the halls he had originated from and grew louder with every passing second. Yet despite the pain and pestilence that filled him, he forced himself onto his knees, his hands flowing into his bag and onto his book where he withdrew from his side the grimoire and a stone taken from Almaris. His verdant hues would close, his hands coming together before his lips moved and began to intonate. “Lords guide me home for I have gathered what you guided me to find. Take me home so that I may bring Order and Balance to that which has been disturbed”. His prayer was met swiftly as howling winds would take him once more and obstruct his view of that realm. So as they began to carry him away, his vision blurred and faded as he rose and then immediately began to fall. His body would hit a familiar ivory stone floor and remains undisturbed until someone comes and finds him. 

 

His journey. a success, but at what cost?