POV: cont. Syreene
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In the east wing of the campus' core hall, the two students made their way to the library. Public archives—Syreene was a stranger to the land of literature. The young elfin was smart, but the idea of reading in such a quiet, dry, immense space with dead tree appendages looking over her shoulder kept her at bay. Emie dragged the hesitant Syreene to the assistant's front desk, where an eager smile from a young blond-haired boy awaited them.
"Hey, Marshov!" Emie greeted.
"A pleasant surprise, as usual. And you brought a friend. I see Emie's corrupting you too, huh?" He grinned from ear to ear, adjusting the frame to his round glasses.
"We share the same pain, I see," Syreene replied, the boy chuckling at her sarcasm.
The young elfin observed from behind her poised human friend a display of exercising assets. Emie pulled down her straight jet-black hair from a bun and leaned into the greasy buck-toothed teen's desk, her chest smiling back at him. Syreene arched a brow with a roll of her eyes, gauging that he was the one crushing on Emie since third grade, and Emie had no problem rattling his chain for self-gain. As long as she popped down a button or two, and pushed into him with false interest, he'd wag his tail and dance around in circles for her. Syreene couldn't help but feel pity for the hopeless romantic as Emie so selfishly threw him a bone.
"Marshov, we need a quick favor. Syreene and I need access to the vault."
"T-t-t-he vault?" he stuttered, sweat budding down his sideburns. "Ugh, no one has access to the vault. It's strictly forbidden. I could even get expelled for granting you entry."
"And they gave you the key?" Syreene added sardonically.
"Well, they said I was the most trust-worthy out of the bunch. Even awarded me top assistant of the semester! It actually took me by surprise, see, because Lidi—"
"—oh, never mind all that," Emie interrupted. "Marshie, I promise we will be real quick. Please?" Lean and squeeze, pouty lips, puppy eyes—Emie must have been doing this for a while.
"Well, as long as you promise you won't be long. You got three minutes!" Marshov looked over the vacant library shoulder to shoulder before pulling out a key from his vest pocket. He unlocked the drawer and searched for the access card. "Three minutes Emie." He handed her the card, and bargained, "And a date tomorrow for lunch."
Emie chocked.
"Well, that seems fair, doesn't it, bestie?" Syreene beamed, laughing internally at her friend's misfortune.
"All right. Deal. But I'm timing that too." She snatched the card before they quickly went to the back for the vault.
Once on the other side of those steel doors, Syreene studied the innards of the cold deep room stocked with shelves upon shelves of ancient script—creation stories, religious testaments, the birth of deities, books of revelations, urja and alchemy, and in its own section, the cult manuscripts. "I'm getting goose bumps. It's freezing in here," Emie commented, her hands running up and down her shivering arms.
"You're not the only one. Weird how they would keep a stock room for old leaves super nippy. What exactly are we looking for?" Syreene followed, her eyes scanning over the impressive display of books.
"A cookbook of sorts." Emie ran her fingers down the column of book spines and spotted one of interest. She pulled it out and skimmed through the pages. Syreene drew her PD with the image on the screen and spotted a similar one as Emie flipped.
"Right here. Is that it?"
"No. Although it looks the same. This is a procedural for… material manipulation?"
"You can read that text?"
"Well, it's similar to old-world Gathian, but I'm sure whomever wrote this disguised it so it wouldn't be copied by outsiders. From what I heard, there were different cult tribes and they oftentimes had their own languages and created their own codes between grand masters. And the masters between those segregated factions would oftentimes be in battle with one another for ownership of not only land, but people. When their food source would die out, they would conjure material manipulation spells. I'm not exactly sure what that involves, but it must be pretty serious if High Council didn't want anyone knowing about it."
"As well as the rest of this durja stuff."
"Hey, I've heard of this before," Emie reached over between the bosom of the book Syreene cradled in her hand. "Something about a lost prophecy, the lasting vitality of Ethessia and Myllithode."
"You know, I heard my brother mention this once or twice, but I thought he was just passing the blabber along. But I don't think it has anything to do with what we're looking for." Syreene further scanned the symbols and foreign text of her next book, then flipped to the next page before breaking out in a cold sweat. "I've seen this before… Papa."
"Huh?"
"In the cellar, that night…" Her stomach twisted, her mouth left agape. She furrowed her brows over the eye-popping discovery—this ritual had a striking resemblance to the one she saw unravel before her that night her father found her in his lab. The elfin couldn't forget that day—it had been that very evening she'd first triggered her father's anger. And that rage crossed paths with her mother, who tried to douse the madness out of his kind-hearted nature.
To no avail.
Syreene never wanted to relive that moment again, and after that night, she fortunately never had to—he had made sure Syreene and her mother ever trekked down those cellar steps again. For better, she thought. For that night her father was truly a monster. "We have to go, now."
"But what about th—"
"—it's been well over three minutes. I don't want us to get in trouble."
The rest of the school day dragged into an eternity. Syreene had two more classes left before she finally got to go home, Emie joining her walk as always. The two packed their homework after the dismissal bell and went out the side doors.
The teen elf had her ears low, musing as they strolled down the grassy courtyard. Syreene could feel Emie staring, and after two classes of dodging that concerned look on her face, Emie finally spoke, "What did you see back there that got you spooked?"
"It's nothing, Emie. Forget the whole thing. You're probably right, maybe he's just studying it just cause."
"Or you can just ask him. He's standing right there."
"What?" Syreene jerked her head up and stopped short, watching as Cabil lounged against the brick Loghan dormitory hall with a bud in one hand, his other tucked in a pocket. Syreene turned to Emie, who was waving at her brother with the most revealing avid expression on her face, and ordered, "Emie, don't tell anyone about what I showed you, especially Cabil! He'd kill me if he knew I was snooping in his room."
"He's so cool. Look at him just leaning over there with no care in the world. Unfazed, with shades."
"Are you listening to me?" Syreene grabbed her shoulders with a shake, attempting to snap the teen girl out of her obvious daze. "Keep this between us, okay? I mean it!"
"Hey." Cabil greeted. Emie flashed him starry eyes, her hands folded beneath her perched chin as she drooled like a typical fan-girl.
"Cabil, what are you doing here?" Syreene asked while tucking away the PD in her tote.
"I'm here to walk you home."
"Hi, Cabil!" Emie beamed.
"Emie." Cabil replied, giving her a side glance and a stoic look.
"I made you something. I was gonna wait until Syreene's next sleepover, but here you are! So I thought, might as well give it to you now. What better time than any? I mean, I wasn't even expecting to see you right here, right now on campus so soon. You know, it's always a pleasure seeing you. I mean, anyone from Aeg, you guys are just so cool. Like, just to think what you guys go through each and every day, risking your lives fo—"
"Emie…" Cabil interjected.
"Oh, gosh. I'm sorry! I'm rambling, haha! Ok, I got it right here." She pulled out her sketchpad, flipping to a pencil drawing and presenting it to the pyro. "It's you, in a monumental god-like statuesque pose. It's a subjective concept, but I like it!"
Cabil winced. "That's… disturbing."
"Is that a leaf between his legs?" Syreene pointed out with a squint in her eyes.
"Here, take it!" Emie tore the page out, to which Cabil folded and tucked it in his back pocket.
"Thanks."
"You're so very welcome!"
"Cabil, you still haven't told me what you're doing here," Syreene followed.
"I told you, I am walking you home. From now on, I'll be dropping you off and picking you up from school. At least on my off days."
"Aww, that's so sweet!" Emie chimed.
"No. No it's not. I've always walked home with Emie." She paused. "And you have a serious problem with that kesh!"
"It's just a sigari, smart-ass. And now you'll be walking home with me and Emie. It's for your protection. Now stop bitching, and let's go. It's too god damn sunny outside."
"I don't mind the plus one." Emie added, and Syreene rolled her eyes with a huff.
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