Chapter Ninety Two - 092
The crates were easy to open, though the crowbar seemed superfluous. Felix just grabbed and lifted the tops off with his bare hands. Inside were dozens of books, each bound in wooden boards covered in various kinds of leather or cloth. Most had no cover decoration, not even a title or anything on the binding. The few that did featured simple sigils debossed on their surfaces, usually inlaid with gold or silver leaf. The sigils, at least, he knew. Most of them. They formed the building blocks of his categorization effort.
Felix opened crate after crate, inspecting each book and placing it on a dry table at one end of the workshop. The books with sigils went into one pile, while the books without went into another. He made sure to be as careful as he could, treating each book like glass. He wasn't clumsy, per say, but had hadn't tried being so delicate since he crossed the First Threshold. His Primary Stats had all risen above one hundred, significantly so in some cases. It had taken some time to get used to it, but his Body, Mind, and Spirit seemed to balance him out. He had, after all, been able to knock out those bandits from earlier.
He stacked a few more books absently as that confrontation replayed itself in his mind's eye. Having perfect recall meant that phrase was literal; he could relive his memory with insane fidelity as long as it was within the last thirty days. The actions of Mehren and his shakedown crew unfolded before him again, the arrogance and casual cruelty evidence at first glance let alone second. Why then had he let them live? The question had been nagging at him all afternoon, one he'd originally dismissed as benevolence. Mercy was good, right?
Then why do I feel like I've made a mistake?
It was because the thugs and the 'Blades,' whatever they were, represented a threat. In the Foglands, Felix had learned that threats were not to be left alone or walked away from, not if you could end them. And if you couldn't? Then run as far and as fast as you could.
That can't be my world though...to live like that is---it sucks. Killing threats or fleeing them, either the callous aggressor or the calculating coward. Felix ran his hands through his hair and huffed a breath. A vision of Mehren's face hovered in his mind, of that moment of fear and pain when Felix had struck him. Him being Human didn't help anything. I haven't killed a Human before. Humanoid, maybe. The Risi...
The Risi were monsters. He'd decided that early on, though he hadn't quite known what he was doing. Monsters were meant to be killed or fled from....
"Ahrhh!" Felix scrubbed his face vigorously and stood up straighter. "Enough! Focus. Books."
And so he worked.
Ten minutes later, Felix had sorted the first crate into two large piles, both carefully stacked. The first was unmarked and illegible to him in all ways. He ignored that pile. The second had at least one sigil placed on it, either on the binding or the cover. He moved over those with a sharp eye, pulling out any one that he recognized. The symbols were complicated and involved, different from the magic runes he'd translated on the Essence Anchor, but each one contained a seed that was familiar to him. Slowly he began to parse them.
Sigils of the Primordial Dawn is level 14!
Sigils of the Primordial Dawn is level 15!
The sigils were all a sort of shorthand for the books. Title and author, somehow mingled into one or two characters. That revelation alone took him longer than he wanted, and a small part of his mind was worried Zara would return and demand to know why he wasn't doing the task she'd assigned. As much as Felix didn't appreciate the sudden workload, he was right where he had planned to be: learning. He didn't want to be kicked out for not completing this thing.
By comparing his translated sigils to the title page of the book, Felix began to work up a mental model of the Continent's written language. At least, this written language. God I hope this is the common one and not some obscure Pig Latin or whatever.
He moved book by book, studying the sigils and the title pages, building up the model in his mind. Having perfect recall was quite the boon in this case, not to mention an Intelligence stat of 190. The information flowed into his brain and was locked in amber, crystallized and sorted and curated. By the end of the first hour, Felix felt like he could read a smattering of words, though much of the grammar and syntax still escaped him. By the end of the second hour, he'd sorted all of the first crate into alphabetical order based on the author's last name.
Pleased with himself, Felix stretched and made his way back into the main shop. It was just as much of a mess as ever, and while he looked over the crowded area, he realized there was no where to put all these books. Every nook and cranny seemed chock-a-block with tomes.
"How the hell am I supposed to do this, then?" Felix looked up at the birds, who watched him with great unblinking eyes. "Does she want me to fail?"
The birds said nothing.
Then Felix noticed that, no, perhaps not all the space was being used. He spotted a corner that wasn't quite being utilized properly. Another shelf to the right had books stuffed in sideways and horizontally. Once he spotted it, he couldn't stop seeing it: the entire bookstore was a travesty of misused space. A slow smile spread across Felix's face and he rubbed his hands together as an idea formed.
Above him, several birds tilted their heads in unison.
Sigils of the Primordial Dawn is level 19!
Three hours later, Felix took a self satisfied look at the work he'd accomplished. The store front was still filled to the brim with books, of course. More than before since he had brought in the remaining crates as requested. Except now, it was organized.
Zara's "system" of shelving had seemed to be just shoving the tome wherever was closest. In order to properly fit all of the crates in this cramped shop, Felix had to take them down. All of them. Luckily many books on Zara's shelves had sigils on them; they were the easy ones to categorize. The others were much more of a slog, since he had to translate their titles one agonizing word at a time. And still there were issues. The books had titles like Gregor's Fire Manual, Memoirs of the Viscount, and How To Hunt A Krelladon. He wasn't one hundred percent on all of the words and phrases, but his Godeater Mind and Born Trait were clutch in these situations. That model was refined again and again, with more information added to it with every line he read. Had he not Tempered his Mind, Felix was positive the entire efford would have been beyond him, perfect memory or not.
The model (and context clues) were key for the stranger titles. Felix found himself reading a page or two of them to get an idea of their topics, often at odds with their titles for whatever reason. Taking those context clues and (mostly) translated titles, Felix sorted the books once again into the following categories: reference material, nonfiction, and fiction. The latter was hard to determine, being a world of magic and all, but the few he'd placed in that category he was fairly positive about. Reference Material was further split into History, Naturalism, and Magic. The last was of particular interest to Felix, and it was hard to resist sitting down and immediately reading those tomes.
Now, his great work done, Felix felt a wild sense of accomplishment. Sure it wasn't fighting off a giant Wurm or defeating an eldritch horror of hunger, but Felix had put his mind to a task and completed it. Admittedly, there were some rough spots in his categorizations, mostly due to the vague nature of some of the inventory. Even so, Felix felt confident that he'd done a good job.
Night had fallen beyond the large glass window of the shop. A scruffy looking man was moving between lampposts and lighting them with a long rod that seemed enchanted. It cast globes of warm light that bobbed in place above each post. The darkening streets were still bustling, people moving back in the opposite direction, pushing back into the Dust Quarter. Meanwhile within the shop, small floating magelights had conjured themselves along the walls, though he couldn't have said when that had happened. Felix frowned. Zara wasn't back yet. He wasn't entirely sure where to go from here, so he sat behind the counter and picked up one of the books he'd categorized under 'Magic.' It had a particularly enticing title: Elemental Magic, and the wording wasn't too difficult at first.
To the layman, magic is simple. Learn a Mana Skill, exercise it like you would a muscle, and perhaps put a few points into Intelligence. Like that, you have become a mage. A poor one, perhaps, but a mage.
True magic, however, is far more complicated.
As has been--
*CRASH*
Felix jolted upright at the sound, the book tumbling from his grasp as he turned toward the front. The door had crashed open and hit the slanted wall of the entrance, dislodging several books in a hail of paper and binding. A voice, high, clear, and utterly amused, cried out.
"Blood and bloody ashes, Alister! It wasn't locked you madman!"
Into the store walked four young adults, no older than their late teens yet dressed in elaborate outfits meant for those years older. The first was an annoyingly handsome young man with dark brown hair, wavy and slicked back. He was dressed in a wine colored doublet and dark pants, stylishly slashed along the sleeves and hem. Boots made of pale leather came up almost to his knee before folding over elegantly, and a silver-hilted rapier poked from his left hip. Felix peeked over the counter and watched as the intruder swept his eyes over the premises. He huffed a dissatisfied breath and took his hand away from his sword.
"Look at this trash," he sneered. "My father has a better collection than this."
Felix frowned as the others came further into the light of the store. He let his Voracious Eye rake over them and noticed that all of their levels were in the early to late twenties. The first two turned of their noses as they entered, one a stout looking boy named Dabney and the other a wispy slip of a girl named Lilian. Like the first, they were both attractive in a young Hollywood sort of way, though quite pale. Then Felix's Eye landed on the last of their party who strode into the room in dark robes only accented by the glitter of a bronze medallion on his chest. He didn't need to analyze his name at all.
Lilian whined and pouted. "Why in Avet's name are we here, Atar?"
Atar. Felix dropped back below the counter and considered his options. He could get up and confront them; Felix was reasonably sure he could throw them out. None but Atar had reached their first Temper, his Eye could tell that. Or...
Abyssal Skein.
Felix melded with his surroundings. He'd listen in a while, see exactly what was going on.
"I told you. We're here for a book that the Librarium banned." Atar walked forward and ran his hands over the shelves nearest him. "I heard this place might have it."
Felix turned back to the teens, now idly pawing through the bookshelves he'd just organized. The slender boy with the rapier, Alister, shoved a few tomes off a ledge and made himself a place to sit. Nope. Don't like that guy.
"Ugh, but why here? This is practically the Dust!" Lilian minced a few steps into the shop, if only to get out of the doorway. She was wearing a layered dress made of a plum-colored fabric and her shoulders were draped with a red half-cape. "Who knows what's lurking out here."
"Just the poor, dear cousin," laughed Alister as he idly toyed with another book. "There's nothing here that can threaten us, especially not in some third-rate booksellers."
Felix crept forward, flaring his Abyssal Skein as hard as he could as he shifted closer to Atar's position. The boy was moving further toward what Felix had dubbed the "Magic" section, and he found his curiosity getting the better of him. A deeper voice laughed near the door.
"Nothing but untempered dullards here, Lilian. I could take them with both arms behind my back."
"Don't start killing the commoners again, Dabney. You know how your father hates playing clean up," Alister's urbane voice drawled from his perch. "And besides, you wouldn't want to get on the bad side of the Inquisitor."
The other two went quiet, and even Atar paused and looked back. "Careful what you say, even here. The redcloaks have ears in many places. Especially in the Wall Quarter."
"Of course, professor," laughed Alister. Felix couldn't see him or the other jerkholes ruining his work, but he heard the boy hop off his perch and land lightly on the wooden floor. "Then we best look harder. Right? Hm?"
With a chorus of groans, the other two teens started combing the shelves. Felix could hear one of them heading for his aisle.
"What are we even looking for?" Whined the girl.
"A book, you clod," quipped Alister.
"It should have the sigil for etiin on the binding," Atar added, then under his breath: "Not that you'd know what that was."
Felix let loose his breath and his skin rippled and became noticeable. Quick as he could, he took another, re-upping his Abyssal Skein while a wave of weariness crashed over him. Putting a hand to the ground, Felix let the dizziness pass and scurried forward, careful to keep himself as quiet as possible.
Abyssal Skein is level 10!
Etiin? Despite never hearing the word aloud before, his sigil Skill translated it for him. Heart? What sort of book would the Guild library ban?
The thought intrigued him, and if he were being honest, Felix didn't want them to have it. Sure it was a little petty, but he hadn't barged in and insulted all their hard work.
"Aha! Here it is!" Felix's head swiveled to the right, where Atar stood just beyond the hollow shelf. The fire mage tried to reach through the space, but his hands were just slightly too big. "Damn. Gotta go around."
Quick as he could, Felix padded over and snatched up the book Atar had reached for; it was a dark brown with a silver sigil stamped into the spine. It indeed did have the etiin sigil on it, along with a few others. Just as Atar rounded the corner, Felix tucked the book away into his nigh-invisible jacket. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved away from the shelf and the mage.
"Damn, damn! Where is it? I just saw it!" Atar fretted visibly, and Felix could see sweat beading on his brow. He crouches down and starts rummaging through the books on display. His hands were shaking. "Not here. Not here!"
What the hell happened to you, Atar?
For the first time, Felix noticed bags under the fire mage's eyes, dark circles from lack of sleep. Something haunted the teen mage, something connected to whatever was in this book. Atar's friends soon joined him, and he bounced back up to his feet in an exaggerated huff.
"It's not here either. Sorry for making you come all this way, Alister."
The brown-haired boy waved his hand and scoffed. "And miss you growling at some decrepit books in the Dust? Wouldn't have missed it for the world. Next time, however, let's leave my cousin out of it. Agreed?"
"Hey!"
Atar smiled, worries seemingly forgotten for a moment. "Agreed."
They all started moving closer to the door, Atar in the rear. Lilith's piercing laugh sounded as Dabney made a tepid joke about poor people, but Felix wasn't listening. He was too busy staying stock still while Atar scanned the bookstore one last time. The blonde mage frowned and bit his lip, but eventually turned back around and followed his friends. They didn't bother closing the door.
Abyssal Skein is level 11!
A little more than a minute later, Felix released his breath. The oily coating of the Void retreated, and he sat heavily on the ground. He took a deep steadying breath through his nose, and let it out through his mouth.
That was worse than usual. Dropping it and reactivating the Skill hadn't felt that bad so quickly before. It had taken him nearly an hour of constant use to reach such a point previously. He grimaced. And I'm gonna have to use it again.
Zara still wasn't back, but he'd completed what she'd asked of him and more besides. I'll stop by tomorrow though and see what she can teach me.
Felix stepped to the door and gave the shop a once over. Aside from a few books thrown on the floor, it wasn't too bad. In fact thanks to his reorganization, it looked a hundred percent better. Smiling to himself, Felix closed the door securely behind him. With a brief pulse of Reign of Vellus, he shoved the lock home from the outside of the door.
Reign of Vellus is level 33!
Felix took off after Atar, weaving through the evening crowds. He didn't bother to notice however, that the rafters of the bookstore were entirely empty.
This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶