"Our next destination," Maple-Songs-At-Dusk announced as they walked through corridors that seemed to sing softly with leftover notes from the music lesson, "is the Solar Archives. Every tribute must be assessed for their ability to read and interpret our historical records."
The corridors gradually shifted from musical gardens to more structured spaces, though 'structured' in the Summer Court still meant walls that seemed to be made of living light and floors that rippled like the surface of a pond whenever they took a step. As they walked, Ali noticed the eternal twilight outside the windows beginning to shift toward a brighter, more golden hue.
"The archives respond to the nature of what's being studied," Maple-Songs-At-Dusk explained, noticing Ali's attention to the changing light. "Some records are better examined in twilight, others in full summer sun, and still others by starlight or moonlight."
They entered a vast circular chamber that took Ali's breath away. The walls were lined with what appeared to be books, though 'books' seemed an inadequate word for what she was seeing. Some appeared to be made of pure light, their titles written in shifting flames. Others seemed crafted from solidified starlight or morning dew. Still others looked like they had been grown rather than made, their covers alive with blooming vines and flowers.
At the center of the chamber stood a tall fae with skin the color of parchment and hair that looked like flowing ink. They were carefully arranging what appeared to be sheets of captured sunlight on a table that seemed to float a few inches above the floor.
"Scribe-Of-Dawn's-First-Light," Maple-Songs-At-Dusk called out. "I bring you a new student for assessment."
The fae looked up, and Ali saw that their eyes were like open books, pages turning endlessly behind their irises. "Welcome," they said, their voice carrying the whisper of turning pages. "Come closer, young tribute. Let us see how you read the light."
Ali approached the floating table, noticing how the sheets of captured sunlight seemed to brighten slightly at her presence. Each sheet contained writing that shifted and moved, sometimes appearing as recognizable letters, other times transforming into patterns that seemed to carry meaning without actually being words.
"These are our simplest texts," Scribe-Of-Dawn's-First-Light explained. "Basic histories and court protocols. Can you read what they say?"
Ali leaned closer, focusing on one of the shifting pages. At first, the movement of the text made her slightly dizzy, but then she remembered what Melody-In-Moonlight had said about listening with her whole being. Perhaps reading here worked the same way.
She relaxed her eyes slightly, trying to feel the meaning rather than force herself to see it. Slowly, the shifting patterns began to resolve into something she could understand.
"This one," she said hesitantly, "is about the first summer feast? Something about... the importance of sharing light and... shadow?" The last word came as a surprise to her - she hadn't consciously read it, but somehow she knew it was right.
"Very good," the Scribe said, sounding pleased. "Most tributes take much longer to realize they need to read with more than just their eyes. Shall we try something a bit more complex?"
They gestured, and one of the living books floated down from a nearby shelf, its cover blooming with tiny golden flowers as it settled on the table. When it opened, the pages appeared to be made of twilight itself, text swimming across them like schools of luminescent fish.
"This is a collection of court protocols," the Scribe explained. "Try to read the first passage."
Ali focused on the swimming text, again trying to feel the meaning rather than force her eyes to follow the movement. This was harder - the words seemed to actively resist being pinned down, dancing away from direct observation.
"It's about... names?" she ventured after a moment. "Something about the importance of choosing them carefully and... the weight they carry in the court?"
"Excellent!" The Scribe's book-like eyes flickered with approval. "You have a natural affinity for this, just as Melody-In-Moonlight suggested you might for music. The two skills are not unrelated - both require you to perceive beyond the obvious, to understand the deeper patterns beneath the surface."
They spent the next hour working with various texts, each more complex than the last. Ali found that while some were easier to read than others, all of them required her to use senses she hadn't known she possessed. By the end of the session, she had a slight headache from the effort, but also a deep sense of satisfaction.
"She shows remarkable promise," Scribe-Of-Dawn's-First-Light said to Maple-Songs-At-Dusk. "I would be pleased to continue her instruction, if the court permits."
"It seems you're making quite an impression," Maple-Songs-At-Dusk commented as they left the archives. "First Melody-In-Moonlight, now the Scribe. That's... unusual."
"Is it?" Ali asked, noting again the thoughtful tone in her guide's voice.
"Let's just say that gaining the attention of our court's masters can be both a blessing and a challenge," they replied. "But come - there's time for one more introduction before the midday feast."
They made their way through more corridors, these ones seeming to shift between light and shadow in complex patterns. Ali found herself thinking about what she'd read in the archives about names and their importance in the court. Something about the way certain names held more weight than others, though the text had become too complex for her to fully grasp the meaning.
"Ah, here we are," Maple-Songs-At-Dusk said, pausing before a door that seemed to be made of woven sunbeams. "The Chamber of Light and Shadow - where we study the balance between the two. After your success with music and reading, I'm quite curious to see how you fare here."
The chamber beyond the door was a perfect circle, its walls alternating between panels of pure light and deepest shadow. In the center, a fae woman was demonstrating something to a small group of tributes - including, Ali noticed, Sage, who appeared to be watching intently as the fae manipulated what looked like strands of actual sunlight between her fingers.
As they entered, the fae looked up, and Ali felt a jolt of recognition. It was Nightshade-Among-Stars from the previous night's dance, only... not quite. This fae had the same star-filled hair, but where Nightshade's had been midnight black, hers was the deep blue of early evening, and her eyes held dawn light rather than starshine.
"Welcome," she said, her voice carrying echoes of both night and day. "I am Twilight-Stars-Dancing, and I teach the art of light-weaving. Please, join us - we were just beginning to explore the basic patterns."
As Ali moved to join the small group, she couldn't help but wonder about the similarity between this fae and Nightshade-Among-Stars. Were they related? In the Summer Court, she was learning, nothing was ever quite as simple as it appeared.
The lesson promised to be fascinating, but Ali found her thoughts drifting back to the archives, to the dancing texts about names and their importance. There were patterns here, she was sure of it - in the names, in the relationships, in the very fabric of the court itself. She just had to learn to read them properly.