[Horoscope Trial] The Observer

The locals proved more generous with their water than originally anticipated.  Perhaps it was a tradition he was unaware of, but, with a few pointed inquiries, he was gifted, by word of mouth, with a mental map of the direction he must take.  Movement was eager as he approached what was sure to be his reward for such deep-seated troubles, and his joy soared when his his little distraction was met with results.  He was eager in scrubbing away the grit from his skin, gulping deep from the well until his throat was cool and his mouth collected the slippery familiar ink, free of sand at last.  Any additional gifts would be the icing of the cake, for what could be sweeter than the stilling of a parched throat?

    The Observatory itself proved an easy find - perhaps the most expansive building in all of Lixor, with smooth white-washed walls of an almost deceptive simplicity.  Deceptive, for when drawing closer all the intricacies flashed to the eye - the exact angle of the walls, the sharp angles of the steps, the filigree-like adornments, almost like the scripture of the ancient books held within had leaked into the very stone of the building.  A sense of awe was inescapable, and Tobias found his breath catching in his throat as he beheld the complexity of the building - the planning and love of the architectures at work here.

    He scaled the steps on weary hooves, not daring to dally a moment longer.  He only hesitated once he reached the great doors, ears pricked as if to catch the sound of the curious, scuttling amongst the bookshelves, but only catching the distant bustle of the city.  

    He took a breath, then another.  He came here to learn, to grow.  He came here so he may better serve his city, and now, here before him, the great doors.  Here, before him, the start of something that was bound to influence the course of his life.  He hesitated almost out of desire to stretch the significance of the moment, but he could not stand here for the rest of time.  He counted, to a number he would not have been able to remember a moment later, then stepped through the great doors to admire the great library held within.

    And it was great.  In that moment, he understood why Lixor was such a wealthy city - with all his knowledge hidden away within its buildings, how could it not be?  With bookshelves taller than his entire length, there was little choice.  Even a fool wouldn’t squander away such possibilities as the ones hidden away within these tomes.

    He looked around without a fixed goal in mind.  Looked, only to understand just how grand the building was.  Looked, only to feel the thrumming energy of the countless books within, waiting for the grasping hands, the tug of magic, so they could fall into the grasp of a would-be student, sitting back, rapt at the information revealed.

    “You have to sign in at the front desk,” came a deep velvety voice from behind.

    He whirled around, feeling something like embarrassment color his cheeks.  Gingerly, he nodded, understanding dawning wistful green eyes.

    “A little overeager there, eh?” the eyes that smiled from behind golden glasses were kindly, body language lax, perhaps aware that his words may have served to deter visitors.  “That’s good to see.  What’s your name?”

    “Tobias,” the reply came briefly.  Head tilting in question, “You?”

    “Mephesto,” and here, he smiled, “doubtless I’ll see you around for some time.  Feel free to let me know if you have any questions.”

    His words were met with an empathetic nod from the cetus.  Drawing aside to allow the ophiuchus to pass by, Tobias kept his head high, tracing the path the older caster took.  After a beat, he followed his example, but went the opposite way, in the direction of the front desk.

    ***

    It was a hall of treasures; deeper than the Blanchness.  He roamed them eagerly, plucking away at books as if drawing breath depended on it.  He read mostly of things he knew or thought he knew, clucking away at history books, and exploration books, even geography books.  His eyes would drink in each new page of information with an ever-returning sense of vigor.

    There’s deeper knowledge locked in these walls.

    The voice was tantalizingly close - almost at his ear.  Startled, he turned his head, only to be met with the empty hall between bookshelves where he had made his stand.   He blinked, then turned away, green eyes eagerly following the trail of the written word.

    You’re so close.

    He paused then, recognition dawning.  That voice - sickly sweet, like a caress - it sounded remarkably like his mistress’.   Unbidden, he rose to his feet looking about.  Of course, the thought of Queen Desdemona here, in Lixor, was unspeakable.  She would surely be safe back home, yet, that was undeniably her voice.

    Yes, come this way…

    There was no questioning the command.  Shaking the immobility from his limbs, he carefully made his way through the muddle of bookshelves and hallways to follow the call of his mistress.  Out of instinct, his steps were silent, his rattling breath, calmed.  

    As he came closer to the source of her tantalizing voice, he could see the spread of the aether - the black abyss of the Blanchness spilling over to the library of Lixor, swallowing bookshelves whole, eating away at the ancient tomes with delightful eagerness, digging holes into the paper.  He dodged an inky pool of it, sinking a bookshelf within its depths.

    Closer, now.

    He turned, and there it was - a gate, wrought in iron with those ancient scriptures not unlike the ones that decorated the forgotten buildings back home.  He looked upward and saw it stretched all the way to the ceiling, digging into the carving there with a ruthless determination.  A kind of door stood before him, only identified by the presence of an intricate lock of pure onyx.  He approached the gate warily; aware of the aether so close, aware that a single misstep would spell out his demise.

    Break it, tear it down.

    And, so, he tried, but magic fizzled upon contact.  Head tilted, he touched the cool surface, but felt nothing amiss.

    Destroy it.  Bring it all down if you must.

    He frowned, but did as commanded, rising himself up to his full height to smash his hooves against the door.  The metal creaked, a heart-wrenching sound that echoed across what felt like the entirety of the library.  Snorting, he tried again, bucking to smash his hooves against the metal with little result.

    More, more…

    He could not fail his mistress.  Turning, he kicked back at the doors, every blow denting the metal cruelly.  It screeched, but its complaints were for naught.  He would bring down this door.  Turning to assess the condition of the gate, he inspected the way it was bent - the gateway separated in such a way that he could fit his snout through the opening.  With a grunt, he reared back again, kicking down once, twice, and the inner workings of the lock snapped.

    The door opened with a loud protest, bent grotesquely where the lock met the gate.  With a self-satisfied grunt, he stepped over the gate to see what was held inside.

    A bookshelf, almost laughably small compared to the rest that towered within the observatory.  Within it, golden books were held, golden books that hurt the eyes with their brilliance, decorated with odd symbols and what looked to be constellations.  After a beat, he counted 13 of the tomes with curiosity, his thoughts turning inward as he marveled at what the tomes could hold within.

    Yes, perfect.

    The purr at his ear only confirmed his thoughts, and he smiled.  At the least, he had found a way to please his mistress even so far from home.

    Marking the location for his own findings later, he turned back, stepping over a gate that wasn’t there in a pristine library that held insurmountable knowledge, in search of Mephesto.