《Grimoire's Soul》1.10
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A study.
Not exactly what Ceyda was expecting.
It was made entirely of unpolished black wood, the pillars, the floors, the shelves, all black. The books, meanwhile came in a variety of eye hurting colors, stacked all the way up into the ceiling--if there even was a ceiling. She craned her neck to see floor after floor of books and shelves, never quite ending.
Behind her, the former wooden door went merely up to her shins. It was a green door with no corners, and a small hole where the doorknob was supposed to be. The door was also hidden by several stacks of books--if Ceyda hadn’t come out of the door, she wouldn’t have even known it was there.
Ceyda walked quietly along the rows and rows of books. Some were pristine, with a gleam of embossed metal. Others still had a fresh leather smell. Other books, however were dusty and faded. Unused. Untouched.
Notably, however, was the smell. They all smelled faintly of salt. Not sea salt, per se, or the ocean spray, but the pungent acidic smell of something raw, and pure. Like overly salted wine.
She walked a bit further, deeper and deeper into the stacks. Until, quite suddenly, she had no idea where she had come from. Every direction led to more looming bookshelves, both more identical and unfamiliar than the last row.
Ceyda hoped that staying in the starting point wasn’t a necessity for waking up in Esterath’s world. If this was Esterath’s world.
Her fingers grazed the book spines. Some had titles, written in pale gold ink, but most of the spines were bare. At random, she picked one out, and opened it.
Blank, glowing white pages greeted her.
In dreams, Ceyda usually had trouble reading, but wasn’t incapable of it. Lines in dreams had an annoying trend of changing midsentence. But she could read the book spines just fine. This book was just blank.
Experimentally, she found a readable book spine.
Random Facts I learned 3k-4k.
She covered her eyes, and put the blank book in front of it.
She then opened her eyes, and lowered the blank book.
Same title. Nothing changed. So this dream world had internal consistency, at least temporarily. That already made it way less stressful than real dreams.
She returned the blank book to its place in the bookshelf, and took the readable book off the shelf.
This one seemed partially readable. Entire sections were blank, but there were sentences scattered across the book, as if scribbled in on invisible margins.
The lady at the grocery market’s name is Tyra. She likes Tamales. You hate her because she’s Really Assholeish.
Your neighbor’s name is Arcadia. You hate her because she’s A Real--
Weird little book.
She returned it to the shelf.
It had been titled ‘random facts’ and definitely had random facts. She would need to find a book that said ‘ways to heal yourself when you’re bleeding out and your kidnappers have apparently never heard of a doctor before.’
‘How to escape this library’ would also be a relevant title.
Oh! ‘How to take over the world to solve all these problems that seemed to be growing with no easy fix!’
Yes.
Ceyda glanced down at her skin. It was definitely more purplish now. And pale. Ceyda had never been particularly pale, much to the disgruntlement of her mother, so this was new.
Her vision wasn’t doing too well either, which was strange, since she’d actually had fairly good vision up to this point. Maybe not “have glasses” vision, but far better than what it was without her glasses.
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But now, as time went on, the edges blurred.
She had a distinct feeling she should be leaving.
Ceyda turned around, but to no avail. The library twisted and turned, the stacks towering over her and narrowing the path before her. She had no idea where she was going.
After yet another turn down an unfamiliar hall of books, something gripped at her neck.
Hot air breathed down her neck.
“What are you doing in my locii, little girl?” a gruff voice whispered behind her.
“H-hello!” Ceyda said brightly. “I have no idea what’s going on, I’m very lost, and I might be dying in the real world!”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” the voice said, just as threatening as before. It was deep, whispery, oddly inhuman.
“I’m in your low--uh...low-kai?” Ceyda said, pronouncing it slowly, unsure of what such a thing was. “Because I’m lost. I’m lost because I have no idea what’s going on. I have no idea what’s going on because I might be dying in the real world.”
The thing gripping at her throat let go, and turned her around.
A shadowy creature lumbered above her.
“Who are you? Where do you come from?” the creature snarled.
“My name is Ceyda Lucrece. I come from Bricketfriar. I accidentally stabbed myself with a meat hook and it’s been an entire ordeal,” Ceyda said.
As she said the words, it occurred to her that maybe she should have considered lying for that one. She needed to stop being honest when she was holding a technically stolen book in her dying arms.
The shadowy being paused. They started rapidly turning shape. First into a young child, than an old woman, than a gangly looking human, until finally settling on the form of a large and tall man.
“You’re from Kesterline?” the man asked, tilting his head.
“Yes. Are you not?” Ceyda asked.
“...I am,” the man said quietly. “I’m just surprised you are. I thought they didn’t let girls practice magic.”
“You don’t seem surprised that I’m doing it at all,” Ceyda said. “Just that I trespassed.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “You could say that.”
He had coal black hair, a broad nose, and even broader shoulders. He grabbed at a few books, tossed them up in the air, and they promptly vanished. His eyes glanced over to Ceyda, and traveled up and down a few times before his mouth hung open.
“You a chatelaine?” he asked.
Ceyda blinked a few times in surprise. She glanced down at her purpling skin, and saw that she was wearing a green-blue dress, one she distinctly remembered that had been stained and had been taken by her mother, never to be seen again.
She nodded. “You’re a mage?”
The man snorted and went back to looking at his books. That probably was an obvious question, considering they were in the dream world.
“I don’t suppose you’re some sort of mage doctor?” Ceyda asked. “Like-- a-- a Quasinonce caster?”
“No,” the man replied.
“Damn!” Ceyda cursed. “I stabbed myself in the back, and apparently the people who kidnapped me don’t even know where a good doctor is!”
“...you were. Kidnapped,” the man repeated.
“Yes. It makes sense in context, I assure you, but the point is I think I’m dying!”
“You could drink a bloom tonic,” the man suggested.
“A what?” Ceyda stared at him blankly.
“You know a--” he paused and mimed drinking. “A bloom tonic.”
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“You have explained absolutely nothing, and you should be ashamed to be such a person when you own a library as large as this!” Ceyda protested hotly.
The man groaned. “For Thelloya’s sake. Fucking--I hate Lystratan so much--”
He walked away, slamming a few books into the ground.
“Hey! Wait!” Ceyda said. “Don’t leave me here alone!”
“I’m not, I promise, gods,” the man said.
“Good, so long as you promise, that fixes everything,” Ceyda said, trying her best to be sarcastic.
The man glanced at her. “You can just leave, you know. I don’t give a rats ass if you die or not. I’m doing this to be nice. You’re the person who somehow stumbled into my locii-- my locii! Do you even comprehend what that is? Or did you just stumble here on sheer fucking accident and decided to rummage around for the fun of it?”
He dropped a book at her feet.
Efficient Tonics For the Ready Soul
“Here, read that. Memorize it, and then make it when you wake up. Or tell someone else to make it,” The man muttered.
She opened the book, and it automatically unfolded to a page in the middle, with the word “BLOOM TONIC” emblazoned across the top, with dense, tiny writing detailing how to make it. It had no less than thirty ingredients, none of which she had heard of before.
“...I don’t think I’m capable of memorizing this. Can’t you just help me from here? You mentioned Thelloya, right? Do you worship them? That’s the body alteration avatar, right? Is there a way for you to… I don’t know, alter my body and take away my pain?” Ceyda suggested.
The man rubbed his face. “Sure, Raidah--”
“--it’s Ceyda--”
“Fucking whatever. Sure. I’ll just, reach through the dimension of dream itself, grab your injury, pop it off, and I dunno, slap it on some fuck here. Or throw it in a garbage can. Because that’s how injuries work. Gods--who taught you anything?” the man sneered.
“You are a thoroughly unpleasant individual.”
“You have no idea, Lara,” the man replied. “Look, I’m sorry you’re dying, really. I’d do anything to help if I could, but I can’t. I’m not even kidding, if I could somehow slap your injury on some other fuck here I’d do it too. I’d earn a fucking medal for it and everything. But since that's not happening, all I have is that they're some random chatelaine in my locii. Seriously how the fuck did you get in here?”
“I already told you, I have no idea what I’m doing!” Ceyda yelled. Her head was spinning. Was she getting woozy? Was she losing more blood? “I was floating in a giant blank void! There was a door! I followed the door! And now I’m in a library! It has been a day and I will not tolerate your grumpiness! Nothing bad has been happening to you!”
“A door?” The man frowned. “What do you mean a door?”
“I saw a door. It is that wooden thing that you walk through and end up in a different place! Perhaps you heard of it? You see what I am doing? I am defining what you asked me about because I am a nice person!” Ceyda hissed.
“All right, now you’re just being bitchy,” the man said. “Get out. I don’t care how. If you’re still here in five minutes, I’ll banish you myself.”
“Perhaps I shall never leave. I’ll just live here ,the rest of my life. I’ll haunt every corner of this library, and infest your soul, and take home there, so everywhere you look, you’ll have to deal with me,” Ceyda replied.
“...gods I know you’re dying but please stop being so dramatic. It’s so whiny,” the man said.
“Dorskina!” Ceyda yelled, but to her disappointment, nothing happened.
“Did you just… did you just try to spell at me?” the man sputtered.
“Yes. Please tell me why it didn’t work,” Ceyda said.
“It didn’t work because you can’t just cast spells! We’re in Esterath’s world! Maybe if we were in your locii, but here we follow my rules! Gods!” the man threw his hands up in annoyance.
“Well I’m sorry, but I’m very new at this. I’ve been a mage for two days and I accidentally killed myself by falling onto a very sharp hook! Which I emphasize might be killing me!” Ceyda said.
“Yes, I know. You’re repeating yourself and it’s very annoying.”
“Because I am panicking!” Ceyda screeched.
“Well, what do you want me to do about that?” the man snapped. The library melted away.
“I would like you tell me your name and then tell me you’re sorry, and then a way to fix all this,” Ceyda sniffed.
“My name is Reiner. I’m sorry. And I have no idea,” Reiner said.
“Oh, that’s ni--”
“What the fuck?” Reiner roared, slamming Ceyda against the wall. “Are you some fucking Haidolan?”
“Not to my knowledge?” Ceyda squeaked.
“How the fuck did you do that?” he hissed.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Ceyda said.
Reiner reeled up a fist, as if to punch her. Ceyda yelled and brought her arms up to cover her face.
The hit never came.
Ceyda waited in darkness, not knowing what to do.
This was so incredibly problematic! Ceyda had learned so much, but so little at the same time. Who was that man? Hopefully Doc would know what a “bloom tonic” was as she couldn’t even remember a single ingredient.
If she had been smart, she would have asked to learn about Esterath’s spells. Then she too could create her own locii, whatever that was. She could only assume it was a demesne only for dreams. In which case, Ceyda could indeed create the castle of her dreams, quite literally.
“Ceyda?”
Gilbert’s voice.
Ceyda opened an eyeball. Than the other. She was still in the same spot. There was also no one who looked like a doctor, much to her annoyance. Of course, her eyesight was back to regular crappiness, instead of slightly better crappiness, so who knew. Maybe that vague blob in the distance was a human doctor being.
“I’m not dead!” Ceyda exclaimed, sitting up in excitement. Not only was Gilbert and Lyle here, but a few other blobs hanging out in the background.
“...somehow?” Lyle rasped. “You got really pale there for a moment!”
To Ceyda’s surprise, she felt no pain at all. She gingerly ran her fingers down her back. There was no wound at all.
“The fuck,” Gilbert muttered, as she leaned by Ceyda. “How’d you do that?”
“Not the slightest clue!” Ceyda replied. She looked around. “Where’s Doc?”
“We couldn’t get a doctor,” Lyle interjected.
“No, my magic book! It’s name is Doc,” Ceyda said.
“Oh,” Gilbert said, lifting up what appeared to be a metal box a few feet away from Ceyda. Underneath it was the leatherbound magical book.
“It kept… moving,” another voice said Ceyda could not place. “It was wigging us all out, we thought it was possessed or something and was going to burst into flames.”
“Oh, no, it just does that,” Ceyda said, making grabby hands at Doc. The book vibrated and forcefully flew into Ceyda, but this time she was ready for it and caught it before it made violent contact with her face.
So I think I felt you dying. And I have to say, that was not pleasant at all. You’re banned from playing around meat hooks, since you evidently cannot be trusted near them.
Ceyda grinned as the words formed around her. In this case, she would have to agree.
There was a few moments of incredible silence. Ceyda didn’t even realize they were happening until Doc quieted.
She blinked at her captors. They were staring back at her. Ceyda smiled pleasantly and waved.
“So I guess… we’re putting you back in the basement,” Lyle said awkwardly.
“Well, I would prefer if you didn’t,” Ceyda replied.
“Right but you don’t uh, really get a choice here? You’re still our prisoner?” Lyle said.
“Well I still would prefer if you didn’t. Am I not allowed to voice my opinion?” Ceyda asked.
“Uh, I mean, it’s just--ok. You broke out of there really easily, and you broke our damn door,” Lyle said.
“Correct.”
“So you could have what, broken out at any time?”
Ceyda shrugged. “Well, not any time. I had to practice with the spells in the book first. But it was indeed inevitable.”
“And you could do that again?”
“Break the door down? Yes. It’s actually really easy,” Ceyda said.
I know you don’t understand how spoiled you’re coming off right now, but gods I’m having flashbacks to learning magic with prodigies. Granted, I’m the one supplying the sheer power, so I guess I just hate myself, but what else is new?
Lyle squirmed. His face was clearly displeased, even with Ceyda’s bad eyesight.
“So there’s no way we could keep you here if you wanted to leave,” Lyle said.
“Also correct.”
There was a bit of a groan throughout the small crowd.
“Uh, no offense, but she could be bluffing. She just managed to almost kill herself with a damn meathook,” A voice interjected. Ceyda recognized it to be Aster.
“Un, no offense, Aster, but she also fell asleep and healed herself!” Lyle shot back. “If anything that makes her more terrifying!”
Ceyda beamed.
Yeah about that. I have nooo clue how you managed to do...whatever it is that you did. At all. It’s possible there’s something in Esterath’s world that could do it, but I’ve never encountered anything like that ever. Granted, developing new spells is perfectly common and normal but I don’t want to take anything for granted. So you’ll need to explain to me step by step what happened in there.
“Well, then, what do you want to do, uh--” Aster trailed off.
“Ceyda Lucrece,” Ceyda supplied.
“Right.”
“Well, I think I’d like to stay up here. Also I’d like a real meal, and not just a piece of stale bread. And glasses. I would like glasses,” Ceyda rattled off the most pressing requirements to her good health. “Also, if we have it, perhaps clothes not made of a potato sack.”
There was a low grumbling throughout the blurry crowd.
“Would you like some sparkling wine too?” Lyle asked.
“Oh, no, I don’t drink, I’m not that old!” Ceyda replied. “Unless everyone here drinks, then I will.”
“...that was sarcasm. I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh. Well you’re not very good at it,” Ceyda said, rolling her eyes.
Lyle sighed. “Listen, princess, while we appreciate you not calling anyone on us or--”
“--not murdering us in our sleep--” Gilbert chimed in.
“Yeah, that. But we can’t… get you those things. We don’t even have good food. Or glasses. Or anything else,” Lyle said.
“Well then why don’t we just steal it?” Ceyda asked. “I have supreme magical power, I’m hungry. You guys are probably going to be hungry at some point. And you tried to steal that book, so why don’t we try to steal a whole bunch of stuff?”
Ah. Hm. Well. Ah. Um. Hmm.
“Absolutely not,” Lyle cut in. “You can stay here but we’re not stealing for you.”
Ceyda sighed. “Well, can I at least go out and steal it myself, then?”
“Can you--what,” Lyle said flatly.
Ceyda looked around. “Everyone heard what I said. I don’t want you to get in trouble, so is it all right if I steal the things myself? I’ll come right back.”
“I’m sorry, is this something you do as a hobby? Because the only reason we steal is because we have to,” Gilbert said. “It’s not something you can just do, and where would you steal from anyway?”
“I’d steal from the Merristers. They live in the mansion a few miles away from here. They’re the ones who own the land here. They have everything I need, except maybe glasses, but they do have a live in doctor, so I assume he has something I can use,” Ceyda said.
“We’re not stealing from nobles!” Gilbert said. “That’s suicide.”
“Technically they’re middle class,” Ceyda corrected.
"...seriously?" Lyle cut in, glaring at Ceyda in annoyance.
“Whatever. They have food, clothes, and probably some good weapons too, since they can’t afford to hire mages,” Ceyda said. “I’ve been there a few times and used to pretend I was robbing the place when I was a kid anyway.”
“...is that just a thing you did?” Aster asked.
“Yes. I was very bored as a child,” Ceyda replied.
I am torn between so many things right now but-- are you sure they don’t have any mages?
Ceyda looked at her grimoire and nodded. It wasn’t like they were robbing the Blanches, honestly.
“You can do. Whatever the fuck you want,” Lyle said. “Really. We can’t control you. We never should have kidnapped you in the first place, so I’m just going to--I don’t know. Go back to work. And the rest of you should too.”
He seemed really nervous. Probably because Ceyda could reveal all of them, and ruin their lives. Which was fair enough.
Most of the crowd did indeed leave. In fact, there was a certain air of nervousness. People were grabbing clothing and supplies, and stripping the place as bare as possible.
Four beings remained. Gilbert, Lyle, Aster, and one person Ceyda had not been acquainted with yet.
“To be perfectly honest, I’m sick of all this sulking about and never doing anything,” Gilbert said. “If--if others want to do this, then I think I can help.”
Lyle sighed. “Is that why you’re still here, Aster?”
“Yup! I wanna see a mage in action,” Aster replied.
“Me too!” the unfamiliar voice said. It seemed like a young girl.
“Who is the person who isn’t Aster, you?” Ceyda asked, pointing vaguely in the unfamiliar person’s direction.
“Natalia,” the new person provided.
Ceyda waited for someone to object, but no one did. “How old are you, Natalia?”
Natalia groaned. “Nineteen.”
“Shit!” Ceyda cursed. “I thought you were twelve!”
“Well, at least you asked outright,” Natalia squeaked. “No one here knew for three months.”
“We apologized!” Lyle protested. “And it’s not like you were very helpful! You kept saying you were too young for anything we needed to do!”
“...short. I said I was too short. Because I can't reach high shelves and fall to a stiff breeze,” Natalia retorted.
“I’ve never had a short friend before,” Ceyda said brightly. She bounded up, and aimed her hand at Natalia’s head. She was about an inch shorter than Ceyda.
“...right. Well, anyway. I work for the Merristers, and I fucking hate them. So if you’re gonna cause some havoc, I at least want to watch,” Natalia supplied.
“Fine, fine, I’m in,” Lyle said. “Someone’s gotta make sure none of you get hurt.”
“And that person will be me, because I have magic!” Ceyda supplied, beaming. “Let’s go rob a house!”
...and along the way you can maybe tell me what exactly happened to you in the dream world? Yes?
“Let’s go rob a house and tell Doc about the weird guy I met in my dreams!”
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